


Personal Boogeyman

by SkeezyBreezyCovergirl



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ecto-Penis, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Magic, Monsterphobia, Mute Frisk, Prejudice, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader has a vagina, Reader-Insert, Sans has PTSD, Slow Burn, reader identifies as female
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6131173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkeezyBreezyCovergirl/pseuds/SkeezyBreezyCovergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are stuck between a rock and a hard place- where here, the "rock" is financial distress, and a "hard place" is your new monster roommate. Terrified of monsters and ghost stories from a young age, you find yourself going to an unlikely savior to keep a roof over your head. If all goes well, you'll have a place to stay, and some cash. Maybe even a new respect for monsterkind.<br/>First love was not an expected outcome; but not unwelcome.<br/>Saucy chapters are marked with a (!)</p><p>*HIATUS*<br/>Sorry folks. I read your comments, and I know you are waiting for a new chapter, but I kind of ran out of steam. I'm not as in to Undertale as I used to be. I always come back to games I've enjoyed in the past though, so I promise I'll get back to it one of these days. Thank you for the overwhelming support!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Humble Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it is. Baby's first fanfiction. Fire away! My Sans/Reader magnum opus. Buckle in, this may be a while. I don't have a proofreader, so please pardon any goofs.

Once, you’d heard someone say that the true value of hitting rock bottom was that it could only go upwards from here on out. The parallel was not lost on you as the news repeated the story of the human who had fallen underground; only to rise to the surface with the entirety of monsterkind at their side. 

 

Eyes glazed over; aloof, you let the TV bathe you in a sea of lights and colors. The monsters had (somewhat literally) come to light about three months ago, and the news was quick to report even the most meager developments about their kind. Consequently, the human ambassador and monster royalty had remained tight-lipped and operated on a need-to-know basis. 

 

You felt a familiar pang in your gut. Born here, you’ve spent most of your life just outside Mt. Ebott National Park, and you could still recall the ghost tales children regaled about strange disappearances into the mountain...strange echoes, forgotten children and malicious beasts looming in the darkness. The park was a popular place for locals to explore, with its lush, diverse forests and unique terrain. The stories kept mischievous children and disobedient teens from falling and injuring themselves in the punishing geography of the park.

 

In the shadow of recent revelations, they could all be absolutely true...seven little children went missing in the area; and as diplomatic talks continued between closed doors, six little caskets were brought back to the surface of the Earth. The seventh child now found themselves in the media spotlight and on the televisions of the world, collectively. 

 

While there was a definite effort to keep information about monsters concealed until interspecies diplomacy strengthened; you caught engaging rumors here and there. “I heard monsters can pull out a human’s soul.”, “I heard they can wield it as a weapon.” and “Somebody told me they can live indefinitely and magic is as simple as breathing to them.” Seemingly oblivious to the deep human anxiety they were provoking, monsters permeated farther and farther from outside the Mt.Ebott area, permeating daily life.

 

That prickling fear was somewhere in the periphery of your mind.  _ You have more immediate concerns than dealing with monsters _ , you thought, gingerly placing a half eaten ice cream cup on your battered coffee table. On it sat a bright yellow notice that you were to have your things packed and out of the apartment complex in a week’s time. A breathy sigh escaped you as you leaned back into the hideous, moth-bitten sofa. 

 

_ Money. The great equalizer. _ Silently, you leafed through the documentation, in a state of denial. You simply couldn’t afford the apartment and your tuition payments on a dead-end job. It wasn’t your landlord’s problem.  _ Actually, they’ve been fairly tolerant. Five consecutive missing payments.  _

 

With a groan, you rose, dusting off your sweatshirt and tearing open the newspaper. As you walked back to the couch, you let the irrelevant pages cascade like flower petals to the carpet until you sifted out the housing ads.  _ An exercise in futility. I couldn’t afford any of these if I wanted...unless I get hit by a car- which, may not be a bad backup plan, come to think of it.  _

 

 Fifteen minutes in, you saw it by chance. It was an unassuming little ad; which actually wasn’t under housing. It was listed as a scientific study. 

 

**_______________________________**

 

**PARTICIPANTS WANTED**

**_______________________________**

 

   Mt. Ebott University- volunteers

desired for 6-week scientific study on

stress and fear reactions. Participants

will be given housing accommodations

and receive 300$ upon completion of

the study. Please fill out online survey

to qualify.

 

**-Dr. Alphys**

**________________________________**

  
  
_ Stress and fear reactions? _ Didn’t sound like a relaxing day at the spa.  _ Better than the alternative, which is me, being very homeless in a week.  _ With your eyebrow raised, you tactfully started tearing the ad out, and placed it on your keyboard; sullenly punching in the url. What was the worst that could happen? It’s time for the ‘only can go up’ bit.  


 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

In all honesty, you didn’t think you’d be so lucky. But there it was, sitting in your inbox. A request for you to come to the university lab for a briefing. The past four days or so, you’d been cramming all your belongings into cardboard boxes, fully expecting to couch surf and take out a loan, further damning your credit score. But then, like a shimmering beacon of mercy, you got the email. Six weeks was not a whole lot of time...however, it was time you’d have to figure out your next move. The three grand would make a dent into a deposit. The nagging panic that had been eroding at your insides dulled to a controlled burn as you put on your best ‘I’m an adult’ outfit. Something that didn’t scream ‘I’ve been wallowing in self-pity’.

Actually, glancing in the mirror, you didn’t look half bad. Who would have thought a blazer would make a respectable human being out of you? You shrugged to yourself, grabbed your purse, and set off to the lab. 

 “Hello- I’m expected. My name is-” you proudly began, only to recoil when the receptionist stood bolt upright with a push of a chair. “I know who you are. Right this way. Dr.Alphys would like to ask some final questions before beginning the trial.” 

Odd. The jumpy receptionist didn’t seem malevolent, but she didn’t seem enthusiastic at your presence. Her rusty raspberry hair hung low in a messy chignon, and you could tell by her lab coat and worn red Chucks that she was likely a student intern. If she was usually this standoffish, then perhaps her brevity was a grace. 

“Eh, uh...do you work for the doctor?” She gave you a stern look over her shoulder. “Yes.” 

She stopped in front of a door about halfway through the blindingly white hallway, pulled a key ring from her coat pocket, and curtly unlocked the door.  _ She’s not one for conversation, I guess.  _

“The doctor has a lot riding on this study. If you’re not completely on board with it, leave. She doesn’t need anyone wasting her time.” You were floored by her directness.  _ She certainly doesn’t pull her punches. _ “I have no intention to...umm…” your eyes trailed away from her less than enthusiastic face down to her name tag- “Olive. Have I done something to offend you?”

 She shifted on her foot, and forcefully chuckled. She turned on her heel and began to click clack down the linoleum floors back to the front desk. You thought you heard her murmur ‘not yet’. You hoped you wouldn’t be interacting much with Olive. This was too good an opportunity to let cattiness spoil it. 

After Olive disappeared from your sight, you turned your body sheepishly towards the open door. Upon a quick glance, nobody was inside.  _ But didn’t she just say the doctor was waiting? _ The room was spotless and bleached, with one square window and fluorescent lights beaming down from above. Against the walls, stainless steel counters and cupboards gleamed barrenly, the room only gilded with some lab safety signs, a sink and a beaker filled with water and a fistful of carnations, sitting jovially in the windowsill. In the center of the sparse room was a standard issue plastic chair. You could only assume that it was meant for you. 

No sooner than you backed into the chair and straightened up in your seat did an intercom flare to life. “Uh..wha- ugh. Is this thing e-even on? Piece of- oh. Oh!” A nasal female voice rang through the speakers, with the distorted sounds of things clashing around on a desk. You could faintly hear a pen clatter to the floor. Your head swam around the room, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound, or identify a camera. “H-Hello! This is...this is D-Dr.Alphys speaking. Nice-uh, nice to meet you- CRAP.” There was a loud crackle and bang. You didn’t have to see Alphys to know she had just unconsciously extended her hand to shake yours, sending her microphone tumbling off her desk. You smiled to yourself. “Uhh, hello? Hi, can you hear me?”

  
  


“Y-yes! Perfect, all sorted.” The low rumbling of Alphys smoothing out her workspace. There was a faint shuffle of paper. “I uh- I have your survey here. I-I wanted to ask you a c-couple questions. Maybe you can elaborate.” You nodded affirmatively; suspicious. You must be on camera. Her response confirmed it. “Good. Uh-so, it says h-here that you rate yourself a v-very good communicator, a t-team player, and an open...open minded person. Every one of your personal references f-feel that this is the truth.”  _ She called  _ **_all_ ** _ of my references? References are usually just fluff.  _ You were beginning to feel that this was no ordinary stress study, and remained silent, allowing her to continue. “B-but, I can’t help to no-notice, you say you c-couldn’t work at a m-monster owned establishment. On a scale of one to t-ten, how would you rate that aversion to, umm...monsters?”

_ Hoooo boy. My vision isn’t the best but I can see where this is headed.  _ You collected yourself, expending your nervous energy by crossing your hands in your lap.  _ I don’t want to lie. But I’ve got to put this as diplomatically as possible. _ “Umm, well, Dr.Alphys-” “J-just Alphys is fine.” “Alphys...to be honest, I want monsters to get their citizen rights and live peacefully up here. I’m just…” you trailed off, but Alphys is still intently listening, and you can hear her typing. “Scared. Scared of them, I guess. It’s not appearances, I don’t think. I just grew up here and the stories about children going missing; the stories about curses and magic…so I guess, maybe eight?”

Your cheeks flushed and you shifted your balance, sincerely hoping that Alphys wouldn’t think you were a bigot. You didn’t think you were any better than monsters. You just don’t want to be around them.

There was a long, pregnant pause. After you heard the clacking of Alphys’ keyboard halt, she cleared her throat. “Good.”

“What?” Wide eyed, you stared at the direction of the speaker. You could hear the squeak of Alphys getting out of her chair. 

“Actually, th-this study is about hu-human-monster socialization. Th-there’s a lot of differences in h-how humans and uh, monsters communicate. V-verbally, non-verbally…” her voice trailed off. You heard shuffling in the hallway, and the door swung open.

To your complete shock, a small, bipedal creature in a lab coat and half-moon glasses waddled in. To be entirely fair, she seemed just as anxious about you as you were about her. You broke out into a cold sweat and went rigid. She didn’t seem offended, she just adjusted her spectacles.

“I-I know. This must be a r-real shock to you. B-but I need to know if I can c-count on you. I want people and m-monsters to get along as well as possible. But it’s a, uh, a bit of a culture shock. To us and you. W-we need to see h-how humans and monsters interact- negative and positive. So we can uh, understand you and y-you can understand us. So th-this study is exposure therapy. C-can you do it?”

You let that question hang in the air for a moment while you gathered yourself.  _ Pros: place to stay, three-hundred bucks. Cons: six weeks hanging out with monsters, being studied by monsters. _ It was never like you’d been prejudiced...you just wanted to keep your distance. But you live under the shadow of Mt.Ebott. Now your hometown is theirs too. It’s not going to get any easier to avoid them. If there’s a chance that this study can make you less frightened by them, then perhaps this is a good thing.

“A-Alphys? I’ll do it.”

She looked at you, pleasantly surprised, and then surged forward to come shake your hand, but you leapt back a few feet, palms outward. 

“Baby steps! Baby steps. But thank you. Really!”

Alphys nervously stepped back, fidgeting with her lab coat. She continued to smile, and you felt kind of guilty. She straightened again when she remembered something. 

“Ah! O-oh! Before I forget, in addition t-to the therapy sessions, y-you’ll be co-habitating wi-with a monster roommate. Your surveys were v-very similar. I truly b-belive you’ll become the best of friends. Sans! Y-you should come in now.”

_ Two monsters. BRACING FOR IMPACT _ . The door swung open fastidiously. This time, a skeleton, by your estimations, about your height casually waltzed in.  _ Our surveys were ‘very similar’? Really? _ You looked him over restlessly. A stark contrast to your stylish blazer, the skeleton (who was presumably male) wore a blue winter parka, track pants and some beaten up sneaks. Despite his liberal use of active wear, you got the impression ‘active’ didn’t describe him well. His eye sockets were half lidded and drowsy, and he had an anxious grin.

You didn’t register it but you were backing up, inch by inch. “I don’t want to be rude; but Alphys-” you began to stammer, but Alphys was not about to let you leave now. “This is S-Sans! He’s a friend of m-mine. No need to worry! He’s a p-perfect gentleman!” 

“hey kiddo.” He grumbled, still grinning. Despite his facade, you knew he sensed your discomfort because a fat bead of sweat ran down the back of his head (but how? He’s all bone). Perhaps this was just as much of an imposition on him as it was you. “Alphys, y-you didn’t tell me that this was going to be a twenty-four seven kind of thing…” “yeah. i guess i’m a  _ bone _ -us”

Alphys groaned at the pun, and before you had time to react, Sans materialized next to you, grabbed your hand in his skeletal one, and gave it a firm, bony shake. And that was when you felt the room swirl, and unceremoniously dropped unconscious to the floor like a sack of potatoes, if potatoes were terrified of monsters.


	2. Trading Spaces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Olive have a heart to heart; accidentally hit on Alphys, and spend your first night in the flat with Sans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support guys. The feedback has all been positive thus far, and I had no idea what to expect, this being my fanfiction debut. It's very much appreciated! And as always, I don't have a proofreader, so let me know if I have any catastrophic errors hiding in here! :)
> 
> Also- this story takes place shortly after the events of the Pacifist storyline, and thus, Alphys and Undyne aren't seriously romantically involved yet. That's yet to come.

When your eyes fluttered open, your mind throbbed and shook like a leaf in a hurricane. The rhythmic clapping of your heartbeat slowly decreased in volume until it was only a dull roar. It took a moment to gather your senses and your vision to sharpen, as you tried in vain to sit up a number of times. Judging from your immediate surroundings, you were in Alphys’ personal office- the room was less clinical than the rest of the labs, but the motif of spotless walls continued in the work space, framing a stylish IKEA desk festooned with important-looking dossiers and manga volumes alike. There was a framed photo of Alphys and another monster you didn’t recognize; and an array of collegiate plaques on the wall. The faux-suede couch you were nestled in rested against the opposite wall. 

 

 Panic began to rise again as you recalled your recent exchange with the doctor and your would-be roommate. Sans. Sans the teleporting skeleton.  _ Did he do that just to mess with me? Or could he really not read the situation?  _

 

 You heard someone clear their throat- you were evidently not alone. Behind you, sitting cross-legged, rigid on a swiveling office chair was your biggest fan- Olive.  _ Great _ . Rubbing your temple, your face settled in a grimace. Olive didn’t look particularly friendly, but despite her less than inviting disposition, she at least seemed less hostile than she had before. 

 

 “Took a bit of a spill, didn’t you?” Still in disbelief, you nodded slowly. “Look-I...you’re not the first person who we’ve brought in here” Olive explained, suddenly unable to make eye contact. She picked at her nails uncomfortably.  _ I can’t imagine what I’ve done to make her go soft on me. _

 

 “-But you’re the first that’s stayed this long. I know this is a lot to ask of a stranger, but please-” Olive shifted her gaze from the floor straight into your eyes. The motion was so abrupt and unexpected you flinched. “Be our candidate. You’re afraid, I get it. Exposure therapy is a little intense...but monsters need this. If they want to find a permanent place in our world, they need Dr.Alphys to conduct this study. I was so certain you’d walk out…” She trailed off, intensity waning. 

 

 “Look...to be completely frank, I’m not comfortable with this study in the least” You wheezed out. This captured Olive’s ire, and she opened her mouth to speak, but you continued. “-But for what it’s worth, I told Alphys I’d do it. It’ll just be a bit of, uh...a learning curve.”

 

 That seemed to calm her. Olive’s attention turned to her pocket and she rolled her eyes. “My cell. Alphys has been texting every five minutes since you passed out to see how you’re doing. She figured waking up to a room full of monsters may be too traumatic for you. Do you mind if she comes in? It would be better if she could just see you for herself.” 

 

 Reluctantly, you sat completely upright and nodded affirmatively. For a second, you thought you saw Olive give you a sympathetic look. No sooner than she had dexterously tapped a message to Alphys did the door fly open. “O-oh, thank goodness. I sh-shouldn’t have sprung that all on you a-at once. I would uh...understand i-if you didn’t want to take part in this a-anymore…” Alphys fidgeted anxiously in her miniscule white lab coat. You were a little less alarmed speaking to her now, perhaps because every time you spoke, she seemed to be as nervous as you. “Alphys- I’m sorry. I’m not very well adapted to...well, you know. Your folks. But I’d still like to try and help. That is, if you think I’m the right person for your study.”   
  
  
When you, Olive and Alphys left the room (you keeping a notable distance behind Alphys), Sans the skeleton was nowhere to be seen. Alphys you didn’t mind so much...but this Sans guy seemed like kind of a jerk. Distaste showed on your face as the three of you traversed the hallway, and you caught Alphys looking at you with concentration.  _ I wonder if my emotions are as hard for her to read as hers are to me?  _ Her quizzical expression metamorphosed to what appeared to be a knowing smile. 

 

 “I-I promise you, he g-grows on you. He’s not really...uh, a jerk. He’s j-just as unsettled by you as you are of him.”  _ Well, evidently I’m pretty easy to read. _ “Sans is afraid of humans? What about the ambassador?” A monster being afraid of a vanilla-pudding human. The thought was humorous and absurd, and it piqued your interest. Alphys looked a little conflicted- like she wasn’t sure if she should answer for Sans or not. “N-not in that sense. Sans can be tense- he knows the a-ambassador fairly well, so they’re not th-threatening to him. But not all h-humans have been tolerant of our kind...and Sans has interacted, in the p-past, with some unsavory human characters.” 

 

 The amusement of Sans conceivably being frightened by humans was instantaneously replaced by a faint guilt- like you’d asked something you shouldn’t have. A look at Olive confirmed this belief. Anything more specific, you’d have to probe from him directly. Gulp. One on one intimate conversation with your spooky new monster pal. 

 

 At the reception desk, the doctor supplied you with a red pocket folder. Inside were papers pertaining to your new apartment and several paper surveys that Alphys hoped you’d fill out tonight. A few were indistinct, and would not be out of place at any medical practice. Some, you thought, might actually be designed for children. They consisted mainly of pictures- some replacing numerical scales for comfort with smiley and frowny faces and others with sunshine and rainy clouds. “So, I, uh, know that today has b-been kind of a big change of p-pace for you. You don’t need t-to f-force yourself to move in today. Just whenever y-you’re comfortable.”

 

 Secretly, you wished you could- but there was no home to return to. If you didn’t move out as soon as possible, your things would be thrown out beside the road.  _ There’s no time like the present. _ “That’s quite alright Alphys. I’ll need to get used to my...living situation eventually. May as well be sooner versus later.” You hoped that Alphys hadn’t seen through your false bravado. A quick read of her amaranthine face convinced you she hadn’t. Olive, however…

 

 “We got off to a bad start. But here’s my cell phone. Call me if there’s anything you need...thanks for, uh, proving me wrong.”  _ Wow. From enemies to friends in hours. I think things are moving too fast for me, Olive. _ You plugged the number into your phone. “M-mine is in that paperwork. Don’t h-hesitate to drop me a line on my c-cell. Anytime.” Alphys added, supportively. Her cheeks were sporting a light dusting of salmon pink. “C-can you move in on your own, o-or do you need some help? M-my girlfri- I MEAN, my friend Undyne is p-pretty strong.”   
  
 If Undyne was the monster astride Alphys in the picture on her desk, then you definitely didn’t need any help. Somehow, you were not eager to interact with the extremely toned, sharp-toothed fish woman in the photo. 

 

“T-that’s unnecessary, Alphys. I’m a strong girl myself. Heh!” For emphasis, you rolled up the sleeve of your blazer and flexed your (disappointingly noodly) arm. Alphys simply smiled a bucktoothed smile, eyes warm behind her glasses. “Th-that’s human determination for you. I’ll see you in t-two days for your first l-lab activity. And...it’s nice working with you.” The small buttercup yellow scientist looked so utterly sincere with her hand (paw?) extended, you shook her hand with little hesitation.  _ There’s progress already.  _

 

 “P-promising.” She concluded. “Yeah, well...shaking hands with a cute looking monster isn’t too much of a stretch. The scarier ones may be a bit more of a stretch.” You followed, tactlessly. Alphys went from marigold to scarlet in seconds, cupping her hands to her face. Clearly she interpreted your statement differently than you had intended. 

  
“Alphys, she’s not hitting on you. She means it like a teddy bear, or a unicorn.” Olive followed, but it was too late. The doctor was irreversibly flustered, and spun, in a mad dash back into the lab. Olive sighed, exasperated.  _ Please don’t tell your shark girlfriend any of that. I don’t think I’d survive that beating. _

 

______________________________________________________________________________

__  
  


 Initially, when you’d opened up the creaky door to your apartment, you’d been sick with worry that you’d have to deal immediately with Sans. Much to your delight, he seemed to be gone as you emptied your (noodly) arms of your possessions. It was clear someone else was living in the apartment, but it was sparse. The building itself seemed relatively new, and the state of the apartment itself was good, however the ambience was somewhat diminished by what appeared to be a randomly discarded sock on the ground of the main living area. A few of your roommate’s things were already on display, like a wastebasket, a makeshift coffee table and a beanbag couch. 

_ Well, he’s no interior designer _ . Looking at your own ratty stuff, you realized that neither were you. After placing a couple of your things, you hazarded a cautious glance towards the closed door you assumed led to Sans’ room. Before you registered it, you were walking towards the door, hand outstretched toward the brass doorknob. On high alert, you jumped a little when the doorknob gave you a slight static shock, and after a deep breath, you began to twist it. The door had opened a small margin when a baritone voice behind you interrupted. “hey buddy. that’s not a great way to start out this friendship.”

You yelped so loud; you had no doubt you had awoken any sleeping neighbors. After you recovered, you were internally proud of yourself for not fainting again. The skeleton must have seen the pants-shitting terror in your eyes this time, because instead of grilling you for invading his privacy, he took a few preemptive steps back. “whoa whoa. no need  _ tibia _ afraid” he continued, his voice ever so slightly shaking with what you placed as guilt for the last shock he’d given you.  _ So he didn’t do it on purpose, I guess. _

 “there’s nothing interesting in there, to  _ patella _ the truth.” Grounded and less frantic than before, his terrible puns finally registered with a subtle cringe.  _ Is that how he lightens the mood? _

Clearing your throat, you tried timidly to respond in kind. “Sorry, I was wondering what skeletons keep in  _ their _ closets.” From what you could tell, Sans was always smiling, but he did not look thrilled before. After you spoke, his features seemed to soften (imagine that; bone  _ softening _ ) as you stepped away from his room. You were going to sulk off to your unfurnished room and lick your wounds when he spoke again. “but serious, there’s nothing juicy in here.”

 With a sweeping gesture, Sans pushed open his door. The room was full of the same haberdasher, rinky dinky furniture and appliances that were in the rest of the apartment. His closet, ironically, was wide open, and full to the brim with various blue outerwear; the floor populated by a raggedy rug and a modest pile of socks. In the corner, there was a hastily assembled desk with a flickering lamp, some photo frames and what appeared to be small electronic and mechanical parts. 

 Being in the same room as him felt less confrontational after this gesture of peace, but he still made your heart race. “welcome to  _ bone _ , sweet home. let’s talk boundaries. do you like ketchup?”

Sans made his way to the kitchen nook, and as the door for the fridge sat ajar, you noticed one tupperware full of spaghetti and approximately four industrial sized ketchup bottles. Tenderly, Sans reached into the cupboard and retrieved two cups, and you stared in abject horror as he carefully emptied the viscous contents of the ketchup bottle into a cup, taking a healthy swig.  _ Where does that even go? _

  Sans looked back at you, a silent question. Oh! He had been wondering if you wanted some too. “No thanks. I’ve got to stop hitting the  _ sauce _ . I’ll just have some water instead.” Scanning you for god knows what, Sans replaced the ketchup bottle into the fridge, took the second cup, and filled it at the tap. Opening the freezer box, he removed a plastic tray of ice, carelessly dropping a few into the water. “may i be the first to tell you,  _ ice _ to meet you. we weren’t fully introduced.”

 Placing the cups on the dining table, he gestured to you and then the chair across from him. “Yeah, sorry, I  _ freeze _ up when I get nervous.” Another sip of ketchup; vanishing somewhere in his maw. “and here i was thinking you were giving me the  _ cold shoulder.” _ The comedy of the situation finally broke through your fear, and you cracked a nervous smile. 


	3. Equivalent Exchanges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You start to learn about your peculiar roommate, put your best foot forward and make an effort to get along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the continued support! Glad to finally get the big guy into the story! This is a pretty dialogue heavy chapter, be warned.

Neither yourself or Sans seemed terribly pleased with your cohabitation, but there was an uneasy truce between you. As Sans languidly sipped on a glass of Heinz, the two of you began to lay down the law. Standard RA agreement kind of stuff. Sans valiantly promised he wouldn’t sneak up on you anymore, but only if you did the same. Huh. Weird. _I don’t get the impression he’s frightened of me._ If Sans was easily startled, he concealed it rather well, and you agreed to make a conscientious effort not to spook him. As he detailed what things he didn’t mind sharing with you (the toaster oven, fridge, so on and so forth…) you lost yourself analyzing his anatomy.

 

 Somewhere in the neighborhood of 5’5”, Sans had the appearance of a broad, heavier set man, despite his apparent lack of flesh. You concluded he must be rather big boned, with wide shoulders and a hefty ribcage. Perhaps the absence of flesh in his middle was why he wore drawstring pants. His face never completely abandoned a smile, but you were quickly learning that it was rarely a genuine one. Monster anatomy must rely heavily on magic, because there was no reason that he should be breathing; however you saw the subtle motions of inhalation and exhalation just like you’d see in a human. His most intriguing asset by far, though, was his eyes. Empty sockets that you couldn’t see the back of....the sockets themselves emoted as if he had functional eyelids, despite being made of solid bone, and in their center sat a tiny pinprick of white light. Like human pupils, the lights dilated and contracted, and focused on whatever Sans was looking at...which right now was you.

 

“hello? shower schedules. we’ve got to figure ‘em out or this whole this is a complete _wash_.”

 

  Mortified, you sat at attention. “Yeah! Sorry. I was just thinking about, uh, something else.”

Rubbing the back of your neck, you hoped he wouldn’t call your bluff. Cognizant of your inquisitive nature, Sans assumed a more informal posture.

 

“you know what? we can take care of the technicalities later. you, kiddo, look like you have a burning question” He began, pointedly. _Damnit._ You looked away. “how ‘bout a game?” That caught your attention.

 

 “What kind?”

 

 “well, i’ll ask a question, and you have to answer it. then you ask me a question...capiche?”

 

 “Turnabout is fair play. What’s your question?”

 

 Unsure how to ask, Sans averted his ‘eyes’ and crossed his arms defensively. “why do you do that? with your face? it gets all red.”

 

 His discomfort started to make sense. He must have had a hunch that flushing was a personal thing to ask about. _He’s just trying to understand. Like me._ “Uh...well, humans do that when they’re angry or embarrassed. It’s not something I can help...it just kind of happens.”

“why are you angry, then?” He added.

 

“I’m not. But it’s my turn. Are you scared of humans?”

 

This, he had to ponder, eyes tracking as if searching for a good way to articulate. “no.” The answer he’d been looking for was a more lengthy response, but you got the feeling he wasn’t ready to explain...still, you were a little spurned by the monosyllabic response.

 

“are you afraid of me?” Sans locked eyes with you. He didn’t look confrontational, but did not shy away from provocation.

 

A dry swallow.

 

“Yes.”

 

It was definitely the answer he was expecting, but he looked hurt.

 

“i’m sorry. you know what? i think i oughta hit the hay. i’m _bone tired_.”

 

You didn’t know quite what to say to cheer him up, but you at least owed him honesty. He shimmied off the chair and took his cup to the sink, looking for an excuse to get away from the uncomfortable conversation, and you began to do the same, shaking out the pins and needles in your feet. As you stood, two feet to his right, you locked your jaw, tension visible throughout your body. A single, shaky hand reached out to rest on top of his soapy phalanges reassuringly in the sink.

 

When you’d resolved to do it, you’d expected his hand to be cold and unforgiving. It was damp from the soap and water, but you could feel a thrumming warmth within him. The bone _was hard,_ but as it contorted, it moved fluidly. The feeling was surreal, and you nearly forgot what you were doing. Tentatively, you withdrew your soggy hand, expediently washed your cup, and wordlessly went to bed.

 

Against your better judgement, you’d snuck a peek at Sans to gauge his reaction, and you registered both shock and surprise in his face. There was a ghostly smattering of blue on his face.

 

As you laid down on your threadbare mattress (on the floor, because you couldn’t find the motivation to set up the bed frame) and pulled the comforter around you, you pulled out a notebook from a nearby cardboard box, along with a pen.

 

  _I am red_

_Sans is blue_

_my roommate is a monster_

_what do I do?_

 

________________________________________________________________________________

__  
  


When you heard a muffled clattering and skittering through the thin drywall, you awoke. Blinking twice, your eyes adjusted, and you could read _3:16_ _AM_ on your phone, plugged in at your side. Sans didn’t strike you as an early riser. Groggy and upright in ‘bed’, you debated if you should go check up on him- though you recalled his request that you not sneak up on him. In the off chance he had fallen, half-asleep out of bed, you decided not to. Instead, you gingerly placed your ear against the wall. There was a muffled groan.

 Sans was much easier to like when he was just a vague idea of a person on the other side of a wall. He could very well just be a human like this. Satisfied that he wasn’t in any real trouble; you allowed yourself to collapse back into the bed, to sleep greedily for a few more hours before going to work. As you slipped into a fragile sleep, you wondered if Sans could hear your movements through the wall...if he could hear them better than you could. In the dark, you felt around for your notebook, and scribbled

  _Questions for Sans:_

_Can monsters hear better than humans?_

_  
_______________________________________________________________________________

 

When you awoke to shower and get decent for work, there was no sign of Sans. His door was shut, so you assumed he was catching up on missing sleep.

You still felt bad about the way you'd left things last night. As the coffee percolated, you thought of ways to put Sans at ease. After all, even if he wasn't afraid of you, it couldn't be pleasant to share an apartment with someone who actively distanced themselves from him. Strangely, you felt compelled to see him genuinely smile. Your eyes were drawn to a colorful magazine on the kitchen counter, perched precariously on a pile of unread junk mail. The mailing flyer stapled to the front was addressed to a "Mr. Mike Hawke". Puzzled, you nearly took it next door, thinking it might be the neighbor's. Upon a second examination, you saw the address was correct, and finally got the joke. _My cock_. So far Sans' jests were family friendly and conservative. “Mike Hawke” got a hoarse chuckle from you.

Humor seemed to be your way in to Sans’ world. You made a mental note to concoct jokes to use on Sans while you worked today. Before you left for the diner, you scrawled _Headed out to work. Let’s ketchup later_ on a napkin and placed it on the counter next to a mug full of warmed ketchup. _I hope that’s okay for now_.

______________________________________________________________________________

 It was six and a half hours into your shift at the Mountain Road Diner when you felt your phone buzzing frantically in your apron pocket. Hands full of hot coffee pitchers, you made your rounds refilling coffee before you stowed away behind a column to listen to the voicemail. It wasn’t a number you had under contacts. Before you could replay the voicemail, the phone came to life again, ringing urgently. Picking it up on the first ring, you tucked it against your ear, hoping your supervisors weren’t watching. On the diner television, patrons watched a news blurb about a monster-human diplomatic summit in progress.

 “Hello?”

 “hey. i know its a bit _cell_ -fish, but i have a situation and need your help”

 “Sans? Is that you?”

Sans’ warm, raspy voice warbled through the receiver, and despite his pun, you could sense worry in it. “Sans. I’m at work. What is it?” Concern notwithstanding, you were almost certain some of the diners at your tables were scanning the room for you, eager to order.

 “my brother is missing. nobody’s seen or heard from him in a day, and his phone is either dead or off.”

Sans had a brother? “What can I do to help?”

There was a timid pause on the other end of the line.

“you have a car, right, bud? i know you’re at work, but…”

 On the one hand, you had work. On the other, you felt like you had to do right by Sans. You didn’t have rent to pay, the lab was picking up the tab for the flat. The difference of a couple of dollars wasn’t that big of a sacrifice. If Sans was calling you, he really must be out of other options. With a sigh, you set the pitcher of coffee on a podium. “Okay. I’ll be back at the place in a couple minutes. Sit tight.”

  
Given your reaction to a single skeleton, you had no idea how to cope with two. But that was a question for later; as you gave away your tables and raced out the glass door _._


	4. We The People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You agree to help Sans out, but get the sense that his brother's disappearance isn't what's eating him.
> 
> Also, here comes the first f-bomb. We're all adults here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! Finally got time to write. I know you guys are eager to see more characters introduced to the Reader, and I promise they're coming at a pace that makes sense! Thank all of you for your insight and support :)

When you arrived on the scene, Sans was pacing back and forth, pink slippers wearing down the ancient rug that spanned the common living area. Today he was wearing what appeared to be a waterproof blue parka and black striped sweats. And sweat is definitely what he was doing. He couldn’t conceal his obvious worry, bags under his eye sockets and a dewy mist on his skull. He was so off guard he didn’t hear you enter the apartment, and when you spoke, you saw him spring backwards. 

 

“Sorry!”  _ Damnit. I can’t seem to  _ **_not_ ** _ make a bad impression. _

 

“no, no, thanks for coming back. i don’t want to be  _ brother _ some, but everyone else i’d call are at the summit with...uh... _ your  _ people”

 

Sans approached you as he spoke, anxiety putting his personal boundaries on the back burner. As you scrounged in your bag for keys, he thoughtlessly picked a rogue piece of romaine lettuce nestled just above your apron.

 

“ _ lettuce _ go. car’s out front?”

 

If the situation was a little less time-sensitive, you might have made a fuss. Instead, you fished out your keys and led Sans out into the garage, quickly spotting your sloppy jalopy. You nodded, granting Sans permission to slip into the passenger’s side. The upholstery was an obnoxious faux leather that stuck against your thighs when your legs were bare and it was hot out. It took several violent twists of the ignition key to make the engine roar to life, and it puttered and spat like a wet kitten as the two of you rounded out the garage.

 

“Sans...where are we going? I don’t actually know.”

 

You stole a peek at Sans, and he was leaning despondently against the window (which didn’t close all the way anymore). “you know that park a block from here? let’s circle around that area.”

 

Adrenaline began to wear off, and as you looped around the same couple of city blocks, past the park and city hall, you began to question Sans’ directions. Nothing in the area seemed noteworthy to you, and he didn’t seem like he was attentively searching for his brother. 

 

“Sans...what does your brother look like? I don’t know if i’d recognize him if I saw him.”

 

“bud, there ain’t a bunch of people who look like my brother and i. i think you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd.”

 

The way he said it almost sounded a little hostile, and his posture straightened as soon as it came out.

 

“that, uh...i didn’t mean it like that. i appreciate your help”

 

“Sans...what is this? We’ve been circling the block for the past hour. The only people I’ve seen are those protesters outside of city hall.”

 

Struck by your bluntness, Sans pulled himself away from the window for the first time in forty-five minutes. His seat squeaked unpleasantly as he swiveled to watch your face. 

 

“i know where he is. to tell you the truth, he’s in city hall, supporting the others. i’m the only one that didn’t go.”

 

Stunned into silence, you carefully pulled your car to the roadside, removing the key from the ignition. With a suspect smell of smoke in the air, you faced Sans, eyebrow cocked, expectantly.

 

“i should’ve told you. without a doubt...but i didn’t think you’d understand”

 

“What exactly wouldn’t I get? Jesus, you made it sound so urgent on the phone. I was worried.”

  
Sans’ facade slipped for a fraction of a second at that last part, but then regained composure. “you said all you saw were those protesters a minute ago. you didn’t take that as a  _ sign _ ?”

 

Humoring him, you took another look at the protesters. Not uncommon to see out in front of the city hall...they didn’t seem uncontained, as to be expected, while court was in session, an officer held back the lines. Squinting, you could read a particularly neon colored pink posterboard. It read  _ STAY UNDER THE BED _ , which seemed kind of nonsensical until you made the connection.  _ The ruling on monster rights. Oh no. _

 

“Oh...Sans, I’m sorry. I don’t know how I didn’t notice earlier. You’re worried about the hearing?”

 

“mostly just my brother. papyrus and i are close. we lived together before we surfaced. my nightmares were keeping me up; waking him up at night. the kid don’t deserve that. now he’s so independent. always been a cool guy, but i always figured he needed me just like i needed him.”

 

That bump in the night, then. That was a nightmare? You were right to be concerned. Would they happen every night? 

 

“look, i didn’t want to put all of this on ya. i need this study so i can stop worrying papyrus to the  _ bone. _ i have my reasons for not being in there today, but i just wanted to make sure nobody messes with my baby brother.”

 

Solemnly, he diverted his eyes towards the protesters. The part of you that was annoyed with Sans’ lie melted when he doted on his brother. 

 

A deep sigh escaped your lungs, and you realized you’d been holding your breath.

 

“We could have saved a quarter-tank of gas if you’d just told me that. Of course we can keep watch over your brother. This hearing is going to take a while though. If we’re going to stick it out, I need caffeine. Do you like coffee, Sans?”

 

“you’re not mad? i thought by now you’d hate me a  _ latte _ ”

 

“UGHHHH. Sans, that was a bad one. Now I’m mad. No, come on.”

 

Briefly, you saw Sans’ grin decrease in size. You wondered if you’d said something wrong, but observing him getting out of the car, you realized his previous smile was a tense grimace. Now he bore a modest, but sincere smile. Your cheeks tugged- it was contagious. A flock of townspeople sat outside in the temperate weather, reading and on laptops whilst sipping on coffees. The sheer amount of people concentrated around the petite brownstone cafe made your roommate slow in his stride. Perhaps humans bothered him more than he let on. The longer he dallied outside, the more people began to stare- not maliciously, but not kindly either. Gritting your teeth, you grabbed at his wrist and gave him a forceful pull. Only twenty-four hours with your roommate and you were casually grabbing at him. Face hot for reasons you couldn’t understand, you weaved into the coffee shop. 

 

“uh, if you don’t mind, i’ll stand here.”

 

Sans wedged himself between a trash can and a chalkboard.  _ Baby steps _ . 

 

“What do you want to drink, then?”

 

“surprise me.”

 

“I thought we agreed  _ not  _ to surprise each other.”

 

Smiling reassuringly, you got two plain coffees with cream and sugar, forced one into Sans’ palm, and walked out the door with a bell chime. The barista looked up to wish you a good day, but was caught off guard by Sans, and just let out a choking noise. 

 

Despite the protest outside the city hall, and Sans’ worry for his brother inside, conversation was less difficult to initiate, and the two of you passed time by asking questions back and forth. Recalling your notes, you opened your mouth to speak.

 

“So, I wanted to ask- do monsters hear better than humans do? Or does it vary?”

 

“...yes and no. i  _ ear _ what you’re saying, but not like you do. we’ve got the same senses, i think, but they’re all kind of just an extension of our magic. there’s no biological process to it. make sense?”

“Yeah, that explains a lot. Alphys and you just seem to know what I’m thinking, and I have the hardest time reading human facial expressions, let alone monster facial expressions. I thought maybe you guys just had better senses.”

 

“oh, that? it has nothing to do with senses. we just can see a soul’s aura and read it for emotions.”

 

Your jaw dropped, and you set your coffee down.

 

“Wait, what? Souls? You can see them?”

 

“ _ eye _ have pretty good vision. it’s really less sight and more a culmination of all senses. like a bubble around someone’s soul that you can walk right into.”

 

“So you can see my soul, right now?”

 

Flustered, Sans’ face got a shade bluer.

 

“no, hell no. you don’t just go looking at people’s souls. they only come into play if you’re going to  _ fight  _ or  _ fuck _ .”

 

“Ah, I didn’t know! No more soul questions then” Stirring your lukewarm americano with a finger, you racked your brain for questions to ask. There was no telling if Sans would ever be this forthcoming again. 

 

“Actually...I didn’t want to ask, but why didn’t you go to the hearing today? Alphys took ti-”

 

“quick, they’re coming out. it’s over.”

 

You didn’t get to finish your sentence, because as you looked up, you saw a parade of monsters file out of the building like something straight out of a Miyazaki movie. The protesters were given new life as they flailed like flickering flames behind a thin barrier. Sans scanned your staticky radio for some sort of local news channel. One crackled brokenly on the speaker, and Sans gave it a swat, his left eye flickering a vivid blue for just a moment. Suddenly, the radio was clear enough to listen to. 

 

_ -Ebott Falls jury decided today, at 4:16 pm, that any sentient life that arose from the underground this past August are; technically, natural-born American citizens. Consequently, they are afforded all the rights and privileges detailed in the Bill of Rights. Hearings will be held in the coming weeks to account for any special provisions to monster rights and to rectify any injustices inflicted retroactively- _

 

“it’s done. they did it”

  
“Congratulations. You’re an American citizen now. I don’t envy the paperwork you’ll be doing.”


	5. Peace Offerings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On better terms with Sans, you make strides towards understanding monsters. You also accept friendship spaghetti.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally added obligatory Papyrus introductions. We'll get more into him and some of the other monsters eventually. Reader is finally getting used to spooky scary skeletons. Thanks for reading! I'm enjoying hearing from you guys and hearing what you'd like to see more of.

Sans’ primary worry began to walk out of the city hall building. You were comfortably a half of a city block away from the assembly of monsters, and you’d prefer to keep it that way...just because you felt somewhat more relaxed around Sans and Alphys now didn’t mean you were eager to immerse yourself into monster society. You couldn’t help but to smile a little at their monumental win as they walked past the protesters with dignity. Some you’d even seen in the news- a regal looking goat monster with broad shoulders, and shortly behind him, an elegant goat woman, likely six feet tall. The king and his estranged queen, working together for a common goal despite their terse relationship. It was actually very benign when you put it that way, you could almost pretend they were regular human politicians. 

 

“That’s your brother- right? The tall one.”

 

“yeah, that’s pap. coolest guy i know.”

 

You could see the longing in his face, and excused yourself. “Sans, go see him. I’ll wait here.”

Clearly he hadn’t wanted to appear rude after asking you for a big favor, but you got the impression that he and his brother needed some time to reconnect. You didn’t have siblings yourself, so you couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be apart from a brother after so long...as Sans gave you a gracious smile and exited the car to check on his brother, you had a sinking feeling in your gut. Perhaps he did have some fears about humans. He alluded that somehow this social experiment would help him recuperate. That may be a conversation to have farther down the line. 

 

Sans nervously approached the monsters celebrating and addressing the press outside. The monster turnout was immense- perhaps that’s why he was so hesitant to approach them.  _ Could he be embarrassed that he didn’t go? _ A better question would be why. The relatively stubby skeleton’s head perked up as his brother locked eyes on him. Sans’ brother was also skeletal, but not quite as broad. He was wide at his shoulder, but narrow all the way down, with a long, smiling face and what appeared to be a too-short t-shirt, hot pants and a makeshift cape. The two brothers collided in a warm hug with such force, that you could almost imagine the clatter of bones. Papyrus seemed enthusiastic to see his brother and catch up. Clearly more exuberant and animated, Papyrus was like something out of a cartoon, despite his terrifying height. 

 

Macabre fascination took over.  _ They’re siblings, and both skeletons. I wonder how monster genes work? How do they reproduce? They all look so different… _

 

A gesture from Sans brought you out of your pervasive thought, and you realized he was gesturing towards you in the car. He gave a gentle wave. Papyrus stood bolt upright, waving forcefully, not unlike the inflatable dancers that adorned various car dealerships. Sans restrained him as the made to bound towards your car, and explained, you imagined, that you were skittish around monsters. Papyrus slumped, but quickly recovered. Sans looked at his brother, and then towards you, and then reached into his pocket. You leapt in your seat as your phone buzzed, taking you by surprise. It was Sans.

 

“Hey, Sans...is something, uh, wrong?”

 

“no. papyrus wanted to meet you. but he can be a lot to handle...i wondered if ya wouldn’t mind  _ phoning it in _ . he wants to say ‘hi’.”

 

Papyrus was clearly quite friendly, even if he didn’t fully understand the situation. Despite his gratuitous height, he was almost childlike in his cape and too-big boots. You couldn’t say no if you wanted to.

 

“I think I could do that.”

 

There was a kerfuffle as Papyrus nearly ripped Sans’ hand off from the wrist, seizing the phone.

 

“HELLO, HUMAN. ARE YOU MY BROTHER’S NEW ROOMMATE?”

 

“Y-yes. Is this Papyrus? I’ve heard wonderful things about you.”

 

“YES. IT IS ONLY NATURAL THAT MY BROTHER WOULD TELL YOU HOW GREAT I AM. IT IS VERY DIFFICULT TO IGNORE. DO YOU LIKE SPAGHETTI?”

 

Taken aback from his boldness, you looked across the distance at Sans, confused. Sans couldn’t see your face from this far away, but he must have imagined your reaction, chuckling. 

 

“Yeah. I guess I do like spaghetti. Do you like spaghetti, Papyrus?”

 

“I AM A SPAGHETTI ARTISAN, HUMAN. I AM RELIEVED MY LAZY BROTHER’S ROOMMATE HAS SOME TASTE. SANS SAYS THAT YOU ARE TOO INTIMIDATED TO MEET SOMEONE AS GRAND AS ME IN THE FLESH. I CAN UNDERSTAND.”

 

“...yes. That is why. I’m sorry, Papyrus, I would be far too shy.”

 

“I DO NOT BLAME YOU, HUMAN. I PROMISE TO CALL YOU ONCE A WEEK SO THAT YOU MAY BECOME ADJUSTED TO ME. THEN I’M SURE WE WILL BECOME THE BEST OF FRIENDS.”

 

As a child, you were always frightened when an overly affectionate, large dog jumped your way. The promise of meeting Papyrus in the future was a similar feeling.

 

“Of course. I’m sure we’ll hit it off. But right now, I’m shaking in awe. I don’t think I could face you right away…you’re so cool.” 

 

“NATURALLY. I SHALL LET YOU RECOVER. NICE TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE, SHY HUMAN. EXPECT MY CALLS.”

 

Papyrus lowered Sans’ cell, and pulled what looked like his own from...well, you’re not sure. He didn’t seem to have pockets, and you decided you’d rather not know where it came from. No doubt he was copying your number.

 

“...sorry about that, kid. pap’s too friendly for his own good. give me a minute to wrap things up over here, and i’ll be ready to go”

 

“No biggie.”

 

“and thanks. for talking to paps. and everything.”

 

Before you could reply, Sans hung up. A day ago, you thought befriending a monster was an unrealistic goal. Despite your reservations, you could almost see you and Sans becoming friends.  _ Weird, considering I can’t seem to keep  _ **_human_ ** _ friends. _

 

After wandering around and socializing with his friends, Sans returned, in the afterglow of his reunions, grinning as he entered the car. You’d been surfing through your Friendbook feed while you waited, and his sudden entry startled you, shortening your breath. Before Sans could apologize profusely, you forced a delighted laugh. That seemed to expunge the worry plain on his face.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


As wonderful as your afternoon with Sans shaped out to be, you needed some alone time to recover. When you’d suggested it, he seems equally relieved. You tried in earnest not to listen, but you could register that Sans was having a muffled cell phone conversation with his brother about the past two days, the lab and yourself. Busying yourself with online schoolwork, you tried to avoid each mondegreen, but to little avail. It was difficult to afford any modicum of privacy in the apartment, which probably made it more effective for the nature of the experiment. 

 

As time rolled on, you managed to listen in to Sans’ phone call less. Papyrus had a lot of questions from you, many of which Sans struggled to answer. Your face got hot when Sans mentioned your question about souls in breathless laughter. His call eventually ended, and you heard the slam of the front door. Sans must be going out to catch up with his friends.

Hours later, after you triumphantly completed an essay, you heard your stomach plea with you. You knew that the only thing in the fridge was ketchup, and groaned.  _ Why didn’t I pick anything up on the way back?  _ The LCD display on the alarm clock read 2 am. Too late to order anything. The front door of the apartment sounded again, and you heard the comforting latch of the lock as Sans locked it behind him. His slippers whispered against the carpet until they stopped outside your door.

 

“hey, kid. did ya eat anything, yet?”

 

“No?”

 

“i dropped by papyrus and I’s place. he wanted me to bring you something...but i’m not sure ya want to eat it. it’s  _ ill-advised. _ ”

  
When you opened the door, Sans was standing there, holding a heaping serving of spaghetti. It appeared to have both pink glitter and parmesan daintily sprinkled on top. You knew it would not taste very good, but your eyes got glossy with tears. You couldn’t even muster up the courage to talk to Papyrus face to face, but he still was so delighted to speak to you, he made you a home cooked meal. You graciously took the plate from Sans, who looked genuinely shocked anyone would want to eat his brother’s spaghetti, and before you retreated back into your bedroom, ate a healthy forkfull. It was awful and wonderful all at once.


	6. Broken Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monster emotions are difficult to get a read on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I deliver! Here we go, Chapter 6. Things were going too well, so I have to throw a cog into the machine.

Today was the first day Alphys would be conducting activities with you and Sans in the lab. The last time you’d seen Alphys, you’d made a questionable impression, to say the least. _First impressions are everything, but I think I’d better build from the ground up_ . Now that you’d gotten the position, you could afford to dress a little more casually. You’d been less than fashionable since that first interview, so perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to put a little effort in today. Pawing through your closet, you settled on a casual cotton dress. It was not quite warm out, so you slipped on a trendy jacket and some tights. You approached the full length mirror against your closet door. _Knock ‘em dead._

 

When you left your room, Sans was already at the dining table, munching savagely at a ketchup-drenched piece of toast. _Part of a balanced breakfast._

 

“Morning, Sans.”

 

“oh. hey kid. sleep well?”

 

You nodded your head as you sifted through the mail he’d already put on the counter. More letters to Mike Hawke. And to your utter amusement, only two days later, there was an envelope for ‘Ms. Anita Dick’. _Bless consumer mailing lists._ If Sans had seen your juvenille prank, he hadn’t mentioned it. Habitually, you looked back at Sans. He caught you looking, and set down his toast.

 

“sorry. i forget that humans think this is gross”

 

Oh. He thought you were grossed out. “No! No, no. Go to town. It doesn’t bother me.” He took a tentative bite, not quite believing you. It had taken an entire outing to get his guard down yesterday, and you didn’t want to lose what progress you had already made. Sure you had your differences, but it was important that he felt at home. _I can’t believe I’m about to do this._

 

Opening the fridge, you looked back over your shoulder to make sure he was looking. He continued to barely touch his toast, now more suspicious of your motives. You grabbed some of the plain white bread already sitting on the counter, and dug in the back of the fridge. There were a few miscellaneous condiments. Relish, mustard...ugh. No. Your fingers wrapped around a faintly sticky bottle. _Bingo_.

 

Triumphantly, you whipped out the half full bottle of barbecue sauce. Sans was giving you his full, rapt attention. With a little effort, you ratcheted the cap off the bottle, and proceeded to empty about a quarter onto the bread, and to Sans’ exquisite fascination, shoved the saucy morsel into your mouth. Feeling the cold kiss of the sauce on your cheek, you made a mental note to wipe your face before heading out. Sans was breathless for the moment.

 

“Eh? Eh?” You smiled and jabbed your elbow into his side.

 

“i have no questions or _condiments_.”

 

The remainder of the morning went smoothly, and at about eleven, the two of you hopped into your total lemon of a car and went to the university lab. This time, you took in the campus. You were enrolled for online courses at Mt.Ebott University, but now you truly understood the appeal of college life. The plazas were neatly paved and adorned with statues and bright buildings. The lab was distinctly different from the other lovely, stucco buildings. It favored function, and wore a layer of vents and vanes atop its roof. When you walked in, Olive was not at her desk, but Alphys was waiting. She faced a wall, and from the mumbles and gesticulating, you gathered that she was rehearsing a conversation. Sans cleared his metaphorical throat.

 

“Ah! Uh- hi. I w-wasn’t expecting y-you guys to be on t-time. I’ve n-never known you to be an e-early bird, Sans.” Alphys was clearly mortified you’d seen her confidence building exercise.

 

“Hello, Alphys.”

 

“H-hello. I’d l-like to apologize for my, uh...behavior last time…”

 

“It’s nothing! If we understood each other perfectly, we wouldn’t be doing this study, would we?”

 

Alphys nodded.

 

“I’m impressed t-to see such improvement. You two have been g-getting along?”

 

Sans answered this time around.

 

“yeah. i decided to _throw her a bone_ ”

 

Alphys played the terrible pun off like it was nothing. Clearly, she was sick of his shit.

 

“Please d-don’t use puns during lab time. I don’t wa-want to put them in my report.”

 

Evidently her admonition was funny to Sans, because he chortled as Alphys began to lead the two of you through the hall. The room today was empty apart from some desks and chairs. On one of the desks was a box of paperclips shaped like fishes, a stack of papers, and an audio recorder.

 

“P-please sit. Today’s activity is r-relatively simple.” Alphys gestured with her short arms towards two chairs facing each other. The two cheap plastic chairs were a perhaps a bit closer than you and Sans usually got to each other, but it didn’t seem to bother him, so you kept that to yourself. Alphys reached into her overstuffed lab coat pockets, producing two small decks of cards. She handed one to each of you. Waddling behind the desk and mumbling, she ticked the ‘record’ button on her audio device.

 

“Today’s activity w-will be about distinguishing f-facial emotions. D-due to the different ways m-monsters and humans perceive emotions, I expect s-some confusion. We’re g-going to find out today if they c-can be learned and become s-second nature in interspecies communication”

 

Checking to see if you were on the same page, Alphys looked expectantly at you. You nodded and she took it as a sign to continue.

 

“If y-you can’t quite read Sans’ face y-yet, don’t worry. M-monsters tend to look very different from each other, and s-so we can feel emotions through soul perception. Humans t-tend to use subtle facial contortions alone. I have s-some scenarios written on your cards. When I s-say go, you will try to react facially to the situation, and y-your partner will, uh...try to guess the emotion. I’ll be timing and gathering data. Sans, you start.”

 

The tiny luminescent dots in Sans’ eyesockets scanned his card. When he looked up, his eyesockets were narrowed and the dots had dimmed. His mouth drew upward on one side, skewed. It was difficult to get a read on him, because his mouth always seemed to be agape. When you didn’t get it immediately, he brought one of his delicate bony fingers up to scratch his chin.

 

“Uhhh...skeptical? Suspicious?”

 

“nailed it.”

 

“Beginner’s luck. My turn.”

 

You lifted up your first card. “ _He forgot to take out the trash.”_

 

You did a face that you hoped translated to mild annoyance.

 

“she’s got _a bone to pick_ with me.”

 

Alphys cringed, writing down Sans’ pun. You beamed.

 

“Yep!”

 

Sans read his second card.

 

His eye sockets were almost circular and his wide mouth was bent.

 

“Scared?”

 

He shook his head ‘no’.

 

“Shocked.”

 

“right-o. all you.”

 

“ _You drop a heavy book on your toe.”_

 

You did your best Oscar-winning wince.

 

Sans looked uncomfortable.

 

“pain. human pain.”

 

He seemed to know that one pretty well. Seemed like a sore subject. He snapped out of his melancholy and read his card. If he seemed uncomfortable before, he was even more so now.

 

Sans squinted slightly and drew his mouth as small as he could to the side. He leaned towards you and stared intently. Inadvertently, he’d gotten so close you could feel his breath when he exhaled. To tell the truth, underneath whatever emotion he was trying to portray, he looked just as alienated as you.

 

“Uh...threatening?”

 

“i look threatening?”

 

He maintained his expression and cocked his head to the side.

 

“Suspicious again?”

 

“no, no.”

 

Sans looked more deflated than he had before.

 

“Confused, then?”

 

A flicker of frustration was visible in his eyes.

 

“no, kid, not even close. dammit.”

 

He looked conflicted for a second, and then looked at Alphys, who was actively avoiding eye contact behind her clipboard. He let out an exasperated sigh, and scootched his chair even closer,

and hesitantly lifted his bony hand up to ghost on your cheek. Your face was somewhere between the color of an apple and a strawberry. Sans trembled.

 

“Embarrassed, you’re embarrassed.”

 

Alphys stood up abruptly, knocking her chair back.

 

“Good! G-good! These results are great.”

 

Sans flew back like he’d been yanked, and looked off to his side, face a little bluer than usual. When he gathered his marbles, he scratched the back of his skull and gave a smile that you would guess was supposed to be reassuring.

 

“S-sorry about that last one, guys. That one w-was designed to be a trick question. It’s one thing to guess what face someone is t-trying to make, but genuine e-emotions are something different. That last one was designed to be, uh...uncomfortable.”

 

On the way out, Sans slapped his deck of cards on the desk. You took the last one and snuck it in your pocket.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

Alphys asked a couple exit questions and sent you on your way. You and Sans did not talk on the way back. When you got back to your apartment, you did not make eye contact.

 

“What a weird experiment, huh?” _Wow. What conversation. You should be a game show host._

 

“yeah...i really looked embarrassed?”

 

“From what I could tell. What were you trying to do?”

 

“yeah, about that. it said to invade your personal space. sorry if i gave you the heebie-jeebies.”

 

“No, it’s all good. I don’t have a _bone of contention_.”

 

Sans relaxed his awkward posture a little bit. You watched a TV program together, but couldn’t remember what. When you retired to your room, you pulled the card from your jacket pocket.

 

“ _Leaning in for a kiss_.”

 

Dizzy, you grabbed your notebook and a pen.

 

_Questions for Sans_

 

~~_Can monsters hear better than humans?_ ~~

 

_Was it a lie for his sake or mine?_

 

_Can he always tell what I’m really thinking?_

 

_When did Sans see a person in pain?_

 

Your eyes fell off the page when your cell phone went off. It was Papyrus. He was serious about calling you once a week.

 

 _“_ HELLO HUMAN.”

 

“Hello Papyrus.”

 

“YOU SOUND UPSET. DID YOU MISS THE GREAT PAPYRUS SO?”

 

“Yes. I did. Papyrus? Can you answer some questions about monsters for me?”

 

“OF COURSE. I AM THE AUTHORITY ON SUCH MATTERS.”

 

“How do monsters see souls? Can they feel human souls the same way?”

 

Papyrus paused on the other end of the line. You imagined these were pretty intimate questions.

 

“Sorry, Papyrus, I’m just curious. You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”

 

“NO. THESE ARE REASONABLE QUESTIONS. WE DON’T ‘SEE’ SOULS UNLESS SOMEONE WILLS THEIR SOUL TO BE SEEN. IT’S KIND OF LIKE TAKING OFF YOUR CLOTHES. YOUR HUMAN FIGHTERS TAKE OFF MOST OF THEIR CLOTHES BEFORE THEY COMPETE-”

 

“Wrestlers?”

 

“YES. AND THEY TAKE OFF THEIR CLOTHES FOR OTHER REASONS TOO. YOU’LL HAVE TO HAVE THAT TALK WITH ALPHYS”

 

“I already know about all that, Papyrus.”

 

“GOOD. I DON’T WANT TO EXPLAIN IT. ANYWAY, YOU CAN STILL FEEL SOMEONE’S SOUL. THAT’S HOW WE KNOW WHAT OTHERS ARE FEELING. IT’S A LITTLE BIT HARDER TO READ HUMAN SOULS.”

 

“That makes sense.”

 

“DID I ANSWER YOUR QUESTION?”

 

“Plenty. Thank you Papyrus. Actually, I have one more question.”

 

“FIRE AWAY, HUMAN.”

 

You lost your voice, not knowing how to ask about something so personal.

  
“Papyrus, has Sans ever hurt a human?”


	7. Open Door Policy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sans have some hard talk over soft brownies. The brownies aren't the only thing melting on the inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy there's the mild fluff.

When you woke up, Sans was already out.  _ Because of you _ .  _ You made him uncomfortable _ .

Ignoring the heaviness in your chest, you showered, slipped into your uniform, and worked an uneventful, union-regulated shift. You made a lifeless drive back to your apartment, expecting Sans to remain absent. He wasn’t. He was in the kitchen nook, casually knocking back the remainder of the ketchup and reading a book. Sans didn’t berate you for interrogating his brother. He honestly looked confused that you were just standing there, waiting for him to rip into you. A warm, sugary smell wafted through the air.

 

“rough day? you look like you were worked to the  _ bone _ .”

 

Skeleton puns. All systems normal. But you were sure yesterday he’d been acting strangely. 

 

“You could say that...you?”

 

“peachy keen. but i want to have a nice talk with my roommate.”

 

Sans stood just as casually as ever, opening the oven to reveal a tray of decadent brownies. He continued matter-of-factly as he sliced the confection.

 

You gulped. Had you made him mad after all?

 

“What would you like to talk about, Sans?”

 

“remember the question game? we take turns back and forth? how ‘bout we do that and enjoy some brownies,  _ sugar _ ?”

 

“You know what? I think that would be for the best. Since you just asked a question, I’ll jump right into mine. What do you know?”

 

Rip it off. Like a bandaid. Sans turned round, tray of hot brownies in hand. He set it down carefully between you on the table, and served a single brownie to each of you. Then he locked eyes with you.

 

“everything.” 

 

He pushed the book he had been reading towards you. It was your notebook. 

 

“why do you think i’ve hurt a human?”

 

His voice shook with something that was much less anger and more sadness.

 

“The lab test. You immediately knew what pain looked like. Why did you lie about the card?”

 

He refused to meet your eyes.

 

“wouldn’t you? i met you like three days ago, and we’re roommates for the next five and a half weeks. it wouldn’t help if you thought i was constantly tryin’ to  _ jump your bones _ .”

 

The crappy pun did nothing to diffuse the situation, and your brownies lay untouched. He didn’t ask another question, but you didn’t press him. The worst of the confrontation was over. Gingerly, you took a bite out of the brownie.

 

“Sans...this is phenomenal. Where did you learn to bake like this?”

 

“i used to have a lot of time to kill. ya don’t  _ have a bone to pick _ with me? even after i read your journal?”

 

“You don’t have one with me for asking your brother all those questions?”

 

“no”

 

“Then I don’t.”

 

“for the record, i don’t always know what you’re thinking. but i wish you’d tell me.”

 

“I’ll try. Will you?”

 

“i will. i promise you i’ll keep making brownies if you promise to keep your journal out here. i like hearing what ya have to say.”

 

Taking another bite of the brownie, you nod in agreement. 

 

“i liked your poem, too. i’ve got to fill out some integration papers. i’ve got so many. this much paperwork is  _ barely legal _ .”

 

Sans rose from his seat, put his intact brownie on your plate, his dish in the sink, and before skulking off to his room, gave your cheek a gentle pinch. 

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

That night your head swam with unfamiliar thoughts and feelings. You hoped they weren’t obvious to monsters, because you’d yet to decipher them yourself. First thing was first. Your bond with your roommate was getting more comfortable by the day. Perhaps too comfortable? Were you mistaking something else for flirtation? The causal touches, the pet names, acknowledging the poem? Three days ago you passed out in fear of him. Now you were swooning of your own accord. 

 

_ God, what if I’m just fetishizing monsters? _ The horrible realization shook you. For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even know if such relationships were possible on a  _ physical _ scale. You may have promised to tell Sans what you were thinking, but there was absolutely no way you could ask him such things. The only others you could ask were Alphys, who was so skittish, you knew it would be a disaster, or Papyrus, who you’d already asked far too much. Olive might know, but you weren’t sure you could admit that you had a slight crush on Sans to her. In order to get information, you had to tell a little  _ fibula _ . 

 

For the first time since you got her number, you sent Olive a text. You learned your lesson with these thin walls, you didn’t want to take any chances. If he heard, Sans may go running for the hills. 

 

8:26 pm

_ Hey Olive? I’ve got some monster-related questions _

 

8:31 pm

_ Hey. Alphys says you and Sans have been ideal test subjects. Why not ask him? _

 

Olive was wicked clever and to the point, all right.

 

8:33 pm

_ It’s about Sans. He left his laptop out the other day, and I went to go plug it in. He had been watching human porn.  _

 

8:34 pm

_ WHAT? Sans? Really? Holy shit, I’d never have guessed.  _

 

You sincerely hoped this rumor wouldn’t make it through the grapevine.

 

8:40 pm

_ Yeah. I wouldn’t have either. Can monsters and humans even…? _

 

8:42 pm

_ Oh yeah. Make no mistake, it’s possible. I just can’t imagine Sans whacking off to human porn. My boyfriend doesn’t even do that. _

 

8:43 pm

_ Doesn’t watch porn? _

 

8:46 pm

_ Human porn. He’s a monster. _

 

You dropped your phone.  _ So that answers that question. Monsters and humans can and will date. _

  
  
That was assuming a lot. But it was good to know it was in the realm of possibility.


	8. Alarming News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sans go to the grocery store in preparation for a special visitor. You receive one more guest than you were bargaining for, and some truths become self-evident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie. This one's a doozy. All arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times. Thanks for the warmth and support! I love hearing from you all.

You looked at the calendar, amused. Two weeks. You and Sans had been living together for two weeks. Where you once would have been startled to see him round a corner too fast, now it was like living with another human (you know, minus the skin and flesh bit). Alphys wasn’t kidding when she said that the two of you bore many similarities. Alphys’ lab activities had been unremarkable, and mostly consisted of team activities or word association games. All of which, Sans introduced puns to, to permanently mar Alphys’ reports. 

 

 Sans was on the couch beside you, intermittently texting and watching the documentary about Serengeti animals with you. 

 

“pap called you tuesday, right?”

 

“Yeah. He just  _ had _ to tell me about this new pasta technique he used while babysitting the kid.”

 

 For the past week, Toriel; you learned, the queen of monsters and usual caretaker of Frisk, the human ambassador had been preoccupied with some legal requests, and often asked Papyrus to watch over them. You pitied Toriel, finally getting citizenship for her people and the legal right to raise her human child, only to be called away. 

 

“pap’s not babysitting tonight. he’s...uh, a little impatient. wants to meet you face to face, kid.”

 

 With as frequently as Papyrus called, texted and messaged you on Friendbook, you frequently forgot you’d never hung out in person. The thought of standing in front of the massive monster was...well, a little off putting.

 

“i won’t force you.”

 

“No, it’s okay. How about we have him for dinner tonight?”

 

“i don’t think you’d get much out of it, kid. he’s all bones and no meat.”

 

“Ha. Ha. Ha. I meant have him  _ over  _ for dinner.”

 

“pap...he would love that. ya sure you’re feeling up to it?”

 

“I’m nervous, but I  _ know  _ Papyrus. I owe it to him to meet him in person.”

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

And here the two of you were, at the local supermarket. These public excursions with Sans were few and far between, but people needed to see monsters out and about, and it was healthy for Sans to get used to the world up above. Sans learned to (mostly) ignore people who stared, and keep himself focused on the task at hand. “so we’re making spaghetti bolognese. what do we need for that?”

 

“Mm...guess?”

 

You gave Sans a puckish smirk.

 

Sans didn’t miss a beat, and started casually throwing random items into the cart as you walked through the aisle. You tried not to laugh and break character.

 

“Oh yes. I would have forgotten the corn flakes.”

 

“yeah. and probably these ‘b’ batteries, in which the b is for bolognese.”

 

“Tortillas. Interesting choice.”

 

This game went on for several minutes as Sans grabbed irrelevant objects and placed them in the cart, and you carefully restored them. Sans dropped a box into the cart.

 

“not sure what these are, but they’re delicious on spaghetti.”

 

Latex condoms. A fellow shopper in the aisle gave you, and then Sans a flabbergasted look. You ungracefully jammed them back on the shelf, knocking several more boxes of condoms to the floor. Hearing the clatter, Sans stopped and helped you jam them back onto the shelf, all the while looking concerned. 

 

“hey. you’re doing that ‘getting red’ thing humans do.”

 

“Am I? Hahaha I didn’t notice. This is fine.” 

 

Sans inspected a box, trying to do the mental math. After reading the back of the box, he must have surmised their purpose, slapped the box back on the shelf and turned a pale shade of haint blue.

 

“yeah, maybe we could leave that out of the spaghetti.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

You hid your mortification and resumed shopping. With a basket full of savory vegetables, tomato paste, parmesan, oregano, olive oil, white wine, beef and spaghetti, you checked out (you insisted on footing the bill, but Sans had just received his first debit card, and swiped as you dug through your purse for yours).

The car ride back to the apartment was filled with sweaty silence as the late spring sun painted the evening gold. By the time you returned home, the sun was slipping past the horizon. The clock read 6:09 pm...a little less than an hour before Papyrus arrived.

 

Sans put the water on the stove, and you went to town on the veggies. 

 

“hey, kid?”

 

“Yeah? Can you grab that onion for me?”

 

Sans brought over the onion.

 

“Go on.”

 

“can i ask you, like, personal human stuff?”

 

You didn’t change your expression, but you stopped dicing the vegetables for a moment.

 

“I asked you about souls...it’s only fair.”

 

Sans looked like he’d expected you to say that, but didn’t know how to ask you about what was on his mind. He busied himself heating up a skillet with a little olive oil, if only to avoid looking. You’d promised to be open, but you felt uneasy.

 

“those...things. in the grocery store. the little latex balloons for your manhood-”

 

“BAHAHAHAHA. Wait, what?! What did you call condoms?”

 

The unexpected humor made your drop your knife and double over with laughter.

 

“condoms. weiner sockets. whatever you want to call them. what do humans need those for?”

 

“Uh...humans use them to prevent pregnancy, mainly...you know, when they’re intimate.”

 

Sans looked more confounded than he was before he asked the question. Before you could cough out an embargo on all questions of a sexual or reproductive nature, he came back at you with a follow up, fat beads of phantom sweat pooling on his temple. 

 

“humans get pregnant  _ without trying _ ?”

 

There was a thunderous knock at the door, and suddenly staring down a roughly six and a half foot skeleton seemed like a more cozy social environment. 

 

Dumping the sloppily chopped veggies into the oiled pan, you bolted to the door. When you nearly ripped the door of it’s hinges, you noticed Papyrus staring at you, aghast. Sans had presumably warned him to be as non-abrasive as possible, and now that you were barreling towards him at breakneck speeds, he was probably confused. You regretted your high-speed evasive hugging maneuver when your cheek collided painfully with Papyrus’ bony body. 

 

“HUMAN. I WAS NOT AWARE YOU WERE SO AFFECTIONATE.”

 

The adrenaline began to wear off when you took a good look at Papyrus. Papyrus didn’t look intentionally scary, like a Halloween decoration, for instance, but he was definitely a more harrowing sight than his rounded, more reasonably heighted brother. Detaching from the embrace, you backed up a little bit. 

 

_ It’s just Papyrus. The same Papyrus who called you to tell you that he’d eaten an entire jar of horseradish, disappointed that there was no horse. _ You took a few stabilizing breaths. 

 

“I was worried you got lost.”

 

“NO WORRIES. I HAVE AN IMPECCABLE SENSE OF DIRECTION.”

 

“yeah. my bro’s pretty cool like that.”

 

Sans had appeared behind you, by magic or on foot, you didn’t know. He cast a look at you, and you knew he was more interested in why you wouldn’t answer his question than the answer itself.

 

“Come in Papyrus, we got sidetracked. We’re still making the spaghetti.”

 

Papyrus lurched in, ducking his head under the doorframe. Papyrus was so oblivious, he’d probably be just as comfortable anywhere else. In an effort to get some distance from the inevitable birds and bees talk, you went into the kitchen to reduce the veggies, throw in the spices, wine and eventually the beef and tomato mixture. The aroma was a heavenly reprieve from real life. 

 

“BROTHER- THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I’VE SEEN YOUR APARTMENT. AREN’T YOU GOING TO SHOW ME YOUR ROOM?”

 

“uh, i guess. it’s this one right here.”

 

Sans pushed the door to his room open, instantly skeptical of his brother’s motives. He’d mentioned that he left most of his belongings back at Papyrus and his place. 

 

“SANS…”

 

“yeah papyrus?

 

“CAN I USE YOUR COMPUTER FOR A MOMENT? I WANT TO CHECK FRIENDBOOK.”

 

“why don’t you use your phone, bro?”

 

“REASONS. WOULD YOU DENY YOUR BROTHER THIS?”

 

You tried your very best to focus on pasta-making, but you leaned just a bit forward to peek into Sans’ room. Sans was standing defensively in front of his laptop, but reluctantly stepped aside to assuage his brother. Papyrus was clearly not logging in to Friendbook, but whatever Sans was hiding, he couldn’t tell Papyrus not to snoop because it would arouse suspicion. You couldn’t see what Papyrus was doing, so you leaned over the hot stovetop just a freckle more. Now, you had a pretty gratuitous view of Papyrus looking through Sans’ internet history. Every time Sans looked at the screen, he tabbed out to his news feed. Sans must have been fully aware, because he was sweating bullets. 

 

“bro, if you camp out on friendbook all night, you’ll let the spaghetti get cold. c’mon, pap.”

 

Oh no. Papyrus was looking for the porn. Olive must not have been as discreet as you’d have liked. You had no idea what Sans was hiding on there, but now it was in jeopardy of being discovered because of  _ your lie.  _

 

“Papyrus, the spaghetti is nearly ready. Would you help set the table?”

 

You saw Sans look up at you in shock. 

 

“your hair.  **y o u r  h a i r  i s  o n  f i r e.** ”

 

_ My hair and my liar liar pants are on fire. FIRE.  _

 

Sans blinked into the kitchen nook, and the fire alarm blared as he wet a towel in the sink, throwing it towards you. You doused the fried ends of your hair with one hand, and took the now overboiling pasta off the range. Sans was worriedly checking up on you, and trying to watch what his brother was doing on his computer with a fevered compulsion. 

 

Beep beep beep. Drip drip drip.  **p a p y r u s  d i n n e r ’ s  r e a d y.** ONE MORE MINUTE. Beep beep beep. 

 

Adding to the cacophany, your cellphone began to ring. Sans picked it up for you, your hands full, and put it on speaker. Olive’s contact ID was plastered across the screen. 

 

“HEY! What’s all the noise? So, don’t say anything in front of Sans, but Alphys asked Papyrus to check his computer, to see what he was looking at. I’m glad you caught it, porn can have a lot of harmful misinformation. If humans float his boat, that’s fine, but Alphys needs to know what to tell him.”

 

“Olive-”

 

“But still,  _ Sans _ ? Of all people. My boyfriend and I had a laugh about that last night. I’ll have to introduce you to Burgerpants one of these days when you’re not so...uh, shy-”

 

“OLIVE.”

 

“Oh! And if it’s not too much to ask, could you keep an eye on him to see if his behaviors towards human women change? We don’t want an interracial incident right now.”

 

“OLIVE, STOP. YOU’VE BEEN ON SPEAKER THIS  _ WHOLE TIME. _ ”

 

“WHAT? No way. Ohohoho fuck, you’re  _ boned.” _

 

Olive hung up. There was a whooshing sound as Sans emptied the boiling pot into the colander. He was frozen. Papyrus shot up from his seat in Sans’ room, unknowingly knocking a pet rock off a shelf. The gravely speakers on Sans’ laptop blared a lewd moan.

 

Beep beep beep. Ba dum ba dum ba dum. Drip drip drip.  _ Ugh, fuck yeah, uhhhhh~ _

 

Without any warning, your unlocked door flew open, and a white goat woman marched in. 

 

“Sans! I am sorry to come to you unannounced, but they have taken Asgore away! They wish to charge him for  _ homicide _ . You must help!”

  
The woman seemed to notice the chaos, looked at Sans’ grave expression, Papyrus covering his eyesockets, and then you, jaw slack, somewhere in between. You faintly registered your body hitting the cheap linoleum kitchen floor as you passed out, ironically, like a fainting goat


	9. Skeletons in the Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toriel and Sans are at odds when Asgore is hauled away for trial, you make a solemn vow to Papyrus, and end your night with more questions than you had answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I got a LOT of feedback from you guys about the last chapter. I had no idea how many jimmies were going to be rustled. But to bake a cake, you need to break a few eggs, which here means that Reader makes her life harder for herself. I hope you continue to enjoy! Thanks!

You awoke in your own bed with a sizeable skeleton sitting at the foot of it. 

 

“Hey Pap.”

 

“HUMAN. YOU ARE...OKAY?”

 

Vision sharpening, and muffled arguing in the living area. You couldn’t see because the door was shut, but you could distinctly identify Sans’ strident tone and a female voice speaking with tremendous authority outside. 

 

Toriel, you presumed. Her unexpected appearance and unfortunate timing had sent you through a loop. No doubt, Sans had suggested Papyrus look after you until the unfamilar monstress left. Even amidst disaster, he still made sure you were cared for- that set your cheeks ablaze, jogging your memory up to the present.  _ Sans HAD been watching human porn.  _

 

Knowing him, he would have been a minimum of five miles away from you for at least a day, at least, if Toriel’s distress was trivial. If Sans was  _ still _ in the living room talking to her, you knew it must be a complex issue. Even headstrong Papyrus seemed weakened by the ardor. 

 

“HUMAN. YOU COULD HAVE TOLD ME YOU WERE FRIGHTENED.”

 

You swallowed, your throat dry and achy with guilt.

 

“I should have. I’m trying to get better, Papyrus. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

 

“IT’S ALRIGHT. BUT YOU NEED TO PROMISE YOU WON’T HURT SANS’ FEELINGS. HE’S NOT VERY COOL, BUT HE’S TRYING VERY HARD TO UNDERSTAND HUMANS”

 

You nodded in agreement. Sans, despite several hiccups, had been the best roommate you’d ever had. 

 

“I DON’T KNOW HOW WATCHING NUDIE VIDEOS IS HELPING, BUT MY BROTHER  _ ALWAYS  _ HAS A GOOD REASON, FOR EVERYTHING HE DOES. YOU HAVE TO REMEMBER THAT, HUMAN.”

 

There was a sense of foreboding in his tone, and you realized that Toriel’s predicament had more to do with Sans than you knew. Asgore was the king of monsters...if he was being charged with murder, it was almost certainly related to the missing children cases. Had their own leader really killed six children? How Toriel could defend that, you couldn’t understand. Somehow that made her scarier to you than her outward appearance. 

 

“Papyrus...I’m so sorry this all happened during dinner. I was looking forward to meeting you in person and making a good impression. I just always seem to get off on the wrong foot…you must think I’m terrible. I don’t know why I was so scared to meet you. You’ve been nothing but inviting.”

 

“A TERRIBLE PERSON WOULD NOT BE HERE, TRYING TO UNDERSTAND MONSTERS. NOW GET UP. WE’RE GOING TO EAT THE DINNER YOU WORKED HARD TO MAKE.”

 

Papyrus extended a gloved hand. His arms were so narrow, you were afraid to put your weight on it. Surprisingly, Papyrus lifted you upwards effortlessly. He opened the door a hair as you smoothed out your clothes. 

 

“tori, do you understand what you’re asking me? even if i come forward, there’s no guarantee that it will even help.

 

“Sans, even if the outlook is bleak, we must do what we can. He would do the same in your place.”

 

“that’s easy for you to sa-”

 

“SANS! DINNER WILL GET COLD AT THIS RATE.”

 

Sans and Toriel took a moment away from their confrontation to look at Papyrus, protectively guiding you out of your room. Toriel was more daunting than either skeleton; despite her fuzzy complexion. She gave the distinct impression she had a great deal of power and was not afraid to use it to get what she wanted.

 

“Of course. I apologize, Papyrus. I have interrupted your dinner. And you, human, as well. I am sorry if I shocked you. I am Toriel.”

 

“yeah. toriel was just leaving” Sans said, rooted, shooting her a cautionary look. Toriel looked deeply offended, and Papyrus seemed ashamed of Sans’ behavior. Clearly he had a great deal of respect for the woman. 

 

“No, I’m sorry, Toriel. You must be worried sick about your friend Asgore.”

 

Toriel looked a little sick. She twisted her regal violet gown like a lost child, suddenly a tenderness in her voice. “Husband, child. Thank you for your concern, and your service to Alphys. Alphys used to work directly under my husband as royal scientist. She has done more for my family than I could possibly repay, and she aids us still.”

 

“Toriel...if you haven’t eaten, you are welcome to join us for dinner. The pasta may be a little too soft, but it’s the least I can do, given your...uh, situation.”

 

Even though Sans was staring daggers at you, Papyrus gave you a reassuring pat, and Toriel’s stern face melted into a maternal smile. Even with one and a half inch canines, she struck you as a warm and accepting woman. 

 

“I truly appreciate the offer, child. But I’m afraid I have already overstayed my welcome. In any case, my child needs me. I left them in the temporary care of Undyne, but if I don’t hurry home to make dinner, Undyne will in no uncertain terms destroy my kitchen. It was lovely to make your acquaintance. I see why Alphys, Sans and Papyrus seem so taken with you- you invited me to stay even though you’re shaking like a leaf. Please enjoy your dinner.”

 

Had you been that poor at concealing it? Toriel gave you a pitied smile, and let herself out, closing the door soundlessly this time. Sans was less than gracious than Toriel, however, and he shot you looks that could be interpreted as ‘mean-spirited’ alternately with bashful peeks. 

 

“You guys sit down. I’ll serve up dinner.”

 

You carefully freed yourself from Papyrus’ protective embrace, and both brothers reluctantly took their places at the table. 

 

“...BROTHER. ARE YOU GOING TO ASSIST THE QUEEN?”

 

Sans let out a breathy sigh, as if he’d been holding his breath for the duration of his argument with Toriel. 

 

“i dunno, paps. i dunno anymore.”

 

Interrupting the nihilism, you placed a small mountain of spaghetti in front of both boys. All things considered, the spaghetti still looked pretty good. When neither brother began to eat, you took it upon yourself to loudly slurp a mouthful. You knew you were sporting some facial sauce. This gesture seemed to break the standby and Papyrus lunged forward, fork in hand. Begrudgingly, Sans took a bite out of his, and you saw his face soften at the taste.  _ You know food must be good when everyone stops talking _ .

 

When everyone finished, Papyrus quietly excused himself, giving you a knowing smile and a side-hug. As soon as he’d left, you felt the warmth leave with him. Sans was still giving you the silent treatment.

 

“Sans?”

 

“what”

 

“I know I dodged your question about humans earlier. That was wrong. You were just curious. If you have any questions, even if they’re embarrassing, just write them down in the notebook. That way I can answer your questions without bugging out.”

 

“uh...yeah. i’ll do that... i should also apologize to you. i didn’t realize i’d left anything out in the open on my computer-ya may be a different species, kiddo, but you’re still a lady. i can see why that might’ve freaked you out.”

 

For some reason, Sans being penitent like a churchgoer repenting sins elicited a giggle from you.

“Don’t be too upset. I’ve watched far stranger things.”

 

_ Wait. What? Did I just say that aloud? _

 

Your instantaneous regret amused Sans, painting a weary smile on his face. 

 

“i got that vibe.  _ felt it in my bones _ .”

 

Horrified, you walked away from Sans, who was enjoying the catharsis. Before you slid back under your rock, you scrawled some questions for Sans in the notebook.

 

_ Questions for Sans _

 

~~_ Can monsters hear better than humans? _ ~~

 

~~_ Was it a lie for his sake or mine? _ ~~

 

~~_ Can he always tell what I’m really thinking? _ ~~

 

~~_ When did Sans see a person in pain? _ ~~

 

_ Why does Toriel want your help to free Asgore? _

 

_ Why don’t you want to help? _

 

_ Why don’t you clean your browsing history??? _


	10. Resolutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You aren't getting anything out of Sans, so you turn to an unlikely ally. Your fears are confirmed, and Sans makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh! Sorry guys! Schoolwork has got me going koo koo ka choo. Holy mother of chapter, this one felt long. I actually wrote a massive lime that became an entire chapter after the last, and realized that I'd spent all that time writing a chapter out of sequence. The good news is that things are definitely picking up and there are goodies on the horizon (not sure if its going to be the next chapter or one after that)! I'll try to update as regularly as before when I finish contending with exams. Thanks again for all your continued help and support!

 When you woke up and checked the kitchen nook, the notebook was gone; along with the accompanying skeleton. You had managed to purge some of the tension that ensued the previous night, but you knew that Sans’ outburst had much less to do with embarrassing online sex forays and was really a diversion from a much larger issue. The pieces were falling into place, but you still couldn’t interpret the larger meaning. Snippets of conversations with Sans, Papyrus and the argument with Toriel seemed suspiciously interconnected. Perhaps, what said more, was what Sans  _ didn’t _ talk about.

 

_ He knows what a wounded human looks like. He didn’t go to the monster naturalization hearing. He has some inside information on Asgore’s murder charges. Toriel thinks he can help. _

Your brain clacked away like cogs in a machine, generating a sense of unease. Listlessly, you wondered who might disclose more about the situation without disclosing anything to Sans.  _ That rules out Olive, then. _ Running all too fast through a mental rolodex of mutual acquaintances, you found yourself with the stressful reality- the only person who would volunteer such personal information about Sans was probably a six foot tall goat woman; and the wife of an alleged murderer. That didn’t sit well...but regardless, your fingers were already nimbly sending a text to Papyrus.

  
  


8:06 am

_ Morning Pap! _

 

_ 8:07 am _

_ GOOD MORNING, HUMAN! I WAS NOT SURE YOU’D WANT TO TALK SO SOON. _

 

_ 8:14 am _

_ One rough night doesn’t mean anything, Papyrus. But I actually need to ask a favor. _

 

_ 8:16 am _

_ THAT’S FORTUNATE. I’M THE MOST QUALIFIED. WHAT DO YOU NEED? _

 

_ 8:17 am _

_ Could you send me Toriel’s address? I’d like to talk to her some time. _

 

_ 8:19 am _

_ WOWIE! I’M SURE TORIEL WOULD BE PLEASED TO SEE YOU. SHE’S A BIT OF A SHUT IN.  _

 

Papyrus attached an address to the text. Always so exuberant and ready to help. Sometimes, when Sans refused to help with chores, you wondered how the two could possibly be related.

 

Two days passed, and you decided to drop by Toriel’s flat with a knock on the door and a box of tea in hand. You didn’t know for sure if she was home, and began to wonder what you’d do if she wasn’t when the smell of freshly baked pie wafted like a butterfly on the wind. How very maternal, even in the face of tragedy. Toriel would be right at home in the 1950’s, a freshly pressed dress and a pie cooling on the windowsill. Lost in your mental image, you didn’t notice that the door had been answered. Expecting a monster, you looked around befuddled when a small child answered the door. 

 

They were, undoubtedly, the human ambassador. So doll-like and determined, like a toy soldier. Their hair was cropped into a grown-out dutch bob, and a bandaid was plastered across the bridge of their nose. Their eyes scrutinized you, almost looking through you, a gaze too old for a young child. Satisfied with whatever they saw in you, they left the door open as they walked back into the flat, a silent invitation to enter.

 

Not a single moment later, the child reappeared pulling Toriel by the sleeve. She was adorned with several flour stains.

 

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise. We have a visitor, my child.”

 

Suddenly shy, the child sank deeper into their oversized sweater and ducked behind their adoptive mother. 

 

“Do not be rude. This is my little one, Frisk. They are not normally this scarce.”

 

You squatted down, arm outstretched in peace. “H-hey! Nice to meet you. Why don’t we shake on it, pal?” You’d always been awkward around children...nothing against them, but they always seemed to see your anxiety plain as the nose on your face. 

 

Something you’d said had made Frisk look at Toriel with mute disbelief. Toriel seemed to understand without a word.

 

“Yes, in some ways, they are rather similar, aren’t they?”

 

Puzzled, you looked up to Toriel for an explanation as Frisk curiously reached out to grab your hand.

 

“Sans said something similar to Frisk, once. It is no surprise you two are so close after so little time.”

 

You wanted to interject, feeling a little embarrassed, but your association with Sans seemed to lend you some trust, so you let the comment stand. 

 

“Ah, yes. I actually wanted to ask you some questions about the lazybones...if that’s okay. I brought some tea.”

 

Frisk cautiously divested you of the tea and pointed it out to Toriel. Approvingly, she took it from Frisk’s tiny hand.

 

“I figured you might wish to speak about him. I gave you a fright the last time we met, you would not be here if it weren’t important. Frisk- please go play in your room for a while. Perhaps you can draw another wonderful picture for me to place in the empty space above the mantle.”

 

Frisk was wary, and seemed to know where the discussion was going, but didn’t protest. With a knowing nod, they marched down the hallway and disappeared into a room, the door closing softly behind them. You could barely make out a melodic hum. Frisk must have been mute by choice. Toriel seemed to lose herself the child’s humming for a moment before continuing.

 

“Come. I’ll put the tea on. There is much to tell you.”

 

Toriel led you through a snug kitchen to a sunny dining nook. The curtains were drawn open, and crayons littered the table. You sat down, and a moment later, Toriel returned with two piping hot cups of tea and seated herself across from you with great grace for a woman her size.

 

“Child...you want to know how Sans can help, and why he will not. Is that correct?”

 

Burning your tongue on the scalding black tea, you gave Toriel a grave look. “Yes. Sans is kind. But I also think there are things he is hiding from me for the sake of my own comfort.”

 

“You are, unfortunately, correct. Has Sans ever told you of his job in the Underground?”

 

“No.”

 

“Of course not. Officially, Undyne was the head of the royal guard”

 

Your mind roamed back to the photo on Alphys’ desk.

 

“Sans, however, was stationed a bit above that. Off the records, of course. Sans is a monster of unspeakable power. More than even my husband. He simply has no interest in being in charge.”

 

Unspeakable power? You’d hardly seen him use his magic  _ at all _ , apart from the occasional interdimensional “shortcut”. Would you even know if he was using magic? Toriel was a step ahead of you.

 

“I don’t believe you have seen much of Sans’ magic. Despite his...uh, sedentary nature, he rarely resorts to using it. You would know if he did, his left eye glows when he exerts himself. I am confident you have nothing to worry about.”

 

You didn’t recall ever seeing his eye flash, but perhaps that was a question better suited to Sans. Your most persistent quandaries were more about how Sans used his magic than how he was casting it.

 

“Toriel. I need to know- to know if he’s somehow involved with those dead human children. I have a right to. This is a matter of whether I’m safe around him or not. I knew I wouldn’t get a straight answer from the others, but I need them from you...please.”

 

Toriel didn’t seem offended, but you could see the pain and hurt of her past traumas come to life behind her gentle eyes. She looked unsure as to how to continue. Clearing her throat and wiping her eyes, she continued.

 

“You cannot blame Sans alone for what he has done. Nor Asgore. I spent a long time hating my husband for killing those children, but he didn’t kill them any more than Sans did. Or I. We all took part, and none of us can be proud…”

 

The good-natured monster suddenly seemed out of place in the picturesque dining nook, averting your gaze, and reigniting your apprehension about her kind. You owed it to her to listen. If you’d learned anything lately, it’s that things aren’t so black and white. You crossed your arms protectively, but remained an avid listener.

 

“We had a human child once, my husband and I. A sibling to our son. They hated the world up above; but they loved our son. That was enough. When they died, humans assumed that our son had killed them, and retaliated, killing him and trapping us behind a magic barrier. Humans used to possess some degree of magic power.”

 

Like sorcery? If fairy tales had been correct about monsters, then magic in humans was not a stretch. 

 

“They lost their aptitude and forgot about our imprisonment. The only way to open the barrier was the use of a human soul...Asgore, in his grief for our son and our people, pledged to take the souls of any humans that fell underground. That was when I-when I...when we went our separate ways. I did not agree.”

 

“When the first human child fell, I took them in as a ward to protect them from my husband. Sans was secretly serving as the last line of defense to the throne. The child...he escaped. I failed to save him. He ran in the night with his strange human book, and left his bookmark. He thought monsters were agents of evil. I do not know if he intended to fight or it was a repercussion of his escape, but he found himself very close to my husband, and Sans attempted to stop him. He would not relent. Sans was forced to injure him to protect the king. He could not finish him, so my husband did that honor.”

 

Quiet, luminescent tears fell from Toriel’s eyes, as if it had happened yesterday, but she still recounted the painful journey.

 

“The same thing happened to every child, until Frisk fell. Frisk has the ability- or at least had the ability, to reset a timeline. Frisk could go back to an earlier point in time. Nobody would remember, besides Sans. He has some experience with space and time travel. He cannot ignite it, but he retained all his memories from previous resets...in some of these resets, the malignant spirit of our human child, Chara, poisoned some of Frisk’s judgement. Chara drove Frisk to kill...and be killed. You must know that Sans loves Frisk with his whole heart...but he could not allow the six human souls to fall into Chara’s possession. Chara’s soul was stained by hatred. They would see humans and monsters burn.”

 

The confession unsettled you, and your shaking hands knocked the tea over, scalding liquid seeping through your clothes and angrily torching your skin. You yelped as you stood and shook yourself off helplessly. The disturbance brought both Toriel out of her solipsism and Frisk out of their bedroom, paper in hand. Toriel frantically dabbed you down with the corner of her billowy skirt, and Frisk grabbed a fistful of napkins, patting you down as far as their small arms would allow. 

 

“Thanks! Thanks. I-uh...I’m sorry, I’ve made a mess.”

 

“No, child, it’s quite alright...I...I think perhaps it may not fit correctly, but I will find you something dry to change in to.”

 

Before you could insist that you were alright, she disappeared down the hall. You watched her go, filled with pity for her. Kind to a fault; blaming herself for the disobedience of the children. Seeing the good in others...even after the world had robbed her of her marriage, her children and happiness. As you felt Frisk tug softly on your sleeve, you supposed that Frisk was the retribution that Toriel truly deserved: a loving, honest and bright child. 

 

Frisk impatiently pushed their drawing toward you until you grabbed it. Frisk guided your eyes to each part of it with a stubby finger.

 

On the periphery of the page, there was a youthful drawing of Sans giving what appeared to be a burger to Frisk. Under that, Sans reading to Papyrus and Frisk, nestled in bed. On the other side of the paper, there was a drawing of a large bearded goat monster. You assumed this to be Asgore. In the vignette, he was jubilantly planting yellow flowers. There was another depiction, alongside that one, with him playing alongside Toriel and two children- one a small goat monster in a sweater, and a human child that bore a resemblance to the way Frisk drew themselves, but with red eyes. Chara, perhaps?  _ They look happy for a being of eminent evil. _

 

In the center, there was a circle that was made to be the moon on one side, and the sun on the other. 

 

Light and dark in each of us. We do not choose what parts to love, only to love in spite of the darkness. The metaphor was clear, albeit simplistic. Looking into Frisk’s wise eyes, you suddenly understood how a child could be an ambassador. Children love everyone by nature. They learn to hate. Frisk refused to learn it. Frisk gestured to you as you tried to hand the drawing back.

 

“It’s wonderful, Frisk. I agree. Don’t you want to keep it?”

 

Frisk pointed to you with a stern look, as if to say ‘It’s you who needs it’.  _ So that’s how Toriel understands the kid. Force of will and determination. _

 

“Thank you, Frisk. I’ll remember this. Put it right next to my bed so it’s the first thing I see in the morning.” You felt more like you were speaking to your boss than a small child. The child scanned you, trying to judge your personal integrity, and satiated, relaxed their rigid pose. Toriel returned, a bundle of lavender cloth in her hands.

 

“Please, I insist. Change into dry clothes. The bathroom is off to the right.”

 

Taking the bundle from Toriel, you shook out the garment to get a good look. It was a loose-fitting, sleeveless dress with a high crew neckline. On the bust, there was a large and strange looking emblem.

 

“Forgive me. It was the least ill-fitting dress I had. In actuality, it is a smock. In this scenario, it will have to do as a sundress.”

 

Gratefully, you smiled and went off to change. Toriel was correct- it was definitely too long and a bit baggy. The cut of the smock, however, clung closely enough to keep yourself covered without gapping, for which you were thankful.

 

You exchanged a loose hug and vague promises of future visits. Just as you were leaving, Toriel leaned towards you to offer a discrete piece of advice:

 

“Do not fear Sans. His power does not manifest to intimidate. It merely defends those dear to him. Knowing these things about Sans frighten him, but I believe they will also lift the burden.”

  
  
  


When you arrived back at the apartment, Sans was there, and the look he gave you was not relieved as he saw you in Toriel’s dress.

 

“ya asked toriel about me.”

 

You swallowed hard.

 

“Yes.”

 

He lurched backwards, making himself seem small. His pupils flickered around the room as he tried to formulate a response.

 

“ya know about the timelines? the children? resets? god fucking dammit, the resets-”

 

“I do.”

 

His hand cupped his face in deep remorse. He let out a sharp hiss of breath, feeling around the counter for something. Reaching into a bookbag, he pulled out the journal you’d found missing this morning. Limply, he tossed it in the direction of your voice as he made a retching noise.

 

“i wanted to tell you in my own words. i’m not a killer, i’m not.  **i ‘ m  n o t** .”

 

He was visibly rattling, half kneeled down to the floor. You instinctively hurried towards him, placing a flat hand on his back. He shook it off, violently.

 

“i know i can’t run away from it anymore. i’ve decided i’m going to help asgore. plea self defense...acts of war, anything...”

 

Your second attempt to soothe him was more successful, Sans allowing you to rub his back.

 

“I don’t think you’re a killer. I think you’re a good person who’s been asked to do some bad things.”

 

Peering out through his fingers, he looked at you in disbelief. 

 

“ya...ya aren’t afraid?”

 

Color prickled your cheeks as you spoke.

 

“No. you make me feel safer when you’re around. And if you feel like helping Asgore is the right thing to do, I believe you.”

 

Sans didn’t have anything else to say. He just sat up a little straighter, you next to him, and placed his hand on top of the one you’d placed on your knee. You sat like that for a while, not talking. When you went to bed, you’d read every page Sans had written, no matter how uncomfortable. The agony of having to kill Frisk, watching his brother die, the apathy of waking up to the same day for years...each page was an inky scar that defined Sans as the person he was. At the end, there was a question written for you.

 

Questions for you:

 

_ are you afraid of me now that you know? _

  
  
You scribbled a large, defiant ‘ **NO** ’.


	11. Testing Troubled Waters (!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Asgore situation comes to a head, and you and Sans are left to contemplate what incarceration means for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boooy we're getting citrusy. Tonight was a twofer for chapter posts.

  The morning had been so surreal, it felt more like a legal drama than reality. Asgore was brought out of detention for trial. Sans had contacted his defense attorney that he would take the stand the night before. The publicly appointed lawyer warned Sans that he could not ensure his protection, but Sans was aware of the risks and simply pushed forward with the same cool indifference he sported every day of his life. The court room was packed with monsters, but you couldn’t let Sans go into this alone. Papyrus and you had accompanied him there, and you had seated yourself in the upper level seats while Papyrus had stuck with Sans. You felt a pang of guilt, but Sans understood, and even seemed pleasantly surprised when you’d mentioned you were staying. The upper levels were perpetually vacant baignoire seating, but it gave you the distance you needed to combat your fear.

 

Toriel and Frisk were in attendance, both to give testimony in Asgore’s favor, along with Alphys and Undyne. You marveled at finally seeing her in person. She was a wiry mer that oozed fighting spirit. The nervous Alphys orbited her like a moon drawn in by her personal strength. The testimonies went on for an unproportionate amount of time; every citizen recounting the benevolence of Asgore. Asgore himself, although boulder sized and intimidating simply smiled and sometimes let a nostalgic tear escape him as he listened to each tale. 

 

When Sans took the stand, Papyrus began to fidget nervously, visible even from a distance. Clearly Sans had not notified Alphys, and she looked at him with a mixture of admiration and shock.

 

You listened to his story a second time, the first having been in his written memoir. He explained that Asgore had less involvement than accused, that his hand had been forced, and the children sent to him had already been at the brink of death.

 

The back and forth between legal representatives and the judge continued on. The jury was dismissed to reach a verdict.

 

And when they came back, the bailiff put Sans in cuffs alongside Asgore.

 

“We here find Asgore Dreemurr guilty of premeditated murder. And we find…”

The judge fanned through several papers on his stand.

 

“Sans Snowdin to be accessory to murder. Sentencing will be carried out at a later date.”

 

The bailiff and prosecutor had retained Sans to instruct him on his situation. Under the circumstances, they unbound him and told him that he could be peaceably dropped of at the penitentiary the following morning. Your heart sank. 

 

Papyrus in tow, you watched Sans give Papyrus a long and teary embrace before he slipped back into the car, not a word spoken the way back to the apartment. 

  
  


  He looked more like a corpse than ever, the life sucked out of him. He half leaned, half laid against the table like the discarded laundry that frequented his room. Asgore would not be saved. Sans would not be saved. Looking at him, slumped exhaustedly, your eyes became glassy with tears you bid not to fall. If he were to see you mourning his departure...it would only weaken his resolve. You should be repulsed. Sans had spoken plainly about his involvement- he had used his immense power to crush the little bones of children until they were nearly dead. Perhaps the children had been wild things, lashing and killing like little beasts, but they were children nonetheless. When you saw him, though, you didn’t see a child killer. You saw a man stomaching horrors that no other could, internalizing them behind a smile to serve his king and protect his brother. Somehow, the threat of his great power didn’t intimidate you. It was just an extension of him- his magic all a part of his soul. The only person Sans murdered in cold blood was himself, bearing his sorrows alone. 

 

 And he buried the body in the old chair by the dining table. All those years of fighting to see the sun, and now, weeks after obtaining it, it would be taken from him again. Sans had until tomorrow afternoon before you had to drive him to the security checkpoint where he’d be processed alongside Asgore, and locked away in a specialized prison. Your body pulsed with a need to comfort but in spite of all your education on monsters, you had no idea how. At a loss, you quietly tugged a chair alongside his. The surussurus of the wooden chair scraping against the linoleum floor roused him a bit, one eye rising above his arm. The pinprick of light that was his pupil was dim and small, like a distant star.

 

 “Sans…”

 

“no. don’t.”

 

“Sans, you don’t have to-”

 

“i said no, dammit.”

 

“But-”

 

“no pity. if i’m going to go in the hole for the rest of my life, i don’t want to spend my last day on the outside in tears, kid.”

 

You swallowed your words, a knot in your throat. Sans looked off towards the wall, weighing his options. His skeletal hands tapped rhythmically and dexterously on the battered old table, and when he broke out of his trance, he caught you watching them. If he thought it was creepy, he didn’t mention it. Instead he turned in his chair to fully face you. 

 

“hey. what do humans do in this kind of situation?”

 

You’d never known anyone who’d gone to prison; let alone known many people at all. But in your head, you replayed every TV show and movie about it you could recall. Sans watched your eyes scan through intangible memories with rapt attention.

 

“Hedonism, I suppose. Drink themselves stupid, eat a big greasy dinner and maybe go to a strip club.”

 

_ I don’t know if I’d peg Sans to be a strip club type, but he seems to like naked humans enough. _

 

“heh. strip club? i dunno, kiddo, that’s a little  _ bare bones _ even for me.”

 

You chortled. You should be making Sans feel better, but somehow it felt like he was comforting you. 

 

“i wouldn’t mind a drink though. It would be  _ ice _ if you’d make me one.”

 

“Sans...you’ve never touched alcohol before. We have no idea how it’s going to affect you…”

 

“then we’ll have some interesting data for alphys. consider it the conclusion to her study. i don’t think i can continue behind bars.” Sans chuckled.

 

He looked sullen for a moment, and then back at you with rapt attention. You realized he was serious and waiting for your reply.

 

“Sans...don’t you want to call Papyrus and some of the others over?”

 

“tell ya the truth, kid...no. does that make me bad? the warden said i could take visitors if i remain on good behavior. i’ve got plenty of days to cry with pap. i want to spend today doing the things i can’t do in the pokey.”

 

That was true. Under different circumstances, Sans’ first drink would probably be a fun memory. This was his day, and if he wanted to spend it blissfully buzzed, you weren’t going to stop him. You were going to join him. 

 

“Fine. We drink one drink, and we wait to see how you take it before I make another.”

 

You stood up, Sans smiling in disbelief. He probably didn’t expect you to cave so easily, but this wasn’t just about him. Sans had become a huge part of your life in the past several weeks, and you admittedly were fonder of him than you ethically should be as part of a scientific experiment. Watching his eyes follow your body from behind secretly thrilled you, even if he was simply trying to figure humans out. The context didn’t matter. You slunk to the kitchen to pour out some rum and coke. Giving a reassuring grin over your shoulder, Sans gave you a mischievous smirk. 

 

“What? I’ve been known to be cool from time to time, Sans.”

 

“you’ve been cool all the time. i just didn’t expect ya to join me, kid.”

 

 Pouring a careful ratio of rum into each glass, you took a sip of your own to ensure it was not too strong. Not bad. There was a definite smack of rum to it, but it wasn’t too boozy. You hoped Sans would like it...you never really saw him drink much besides ketchup.  _ He’d probably enjoy bloody marys, if he had the chance to try them.  _

 

With a ceramic click, you set a glass before him, watching and inviting him to take his first sip. Instead, he rose to his feet, picked up his glass, and gestured toward the couch.

 

“c’mon. we’re being human today, remember? we’re going to watch some mind numbing television and order take out.”

 

_ Already sounds more fun than most of the Saturday nights in my life. _

 

You settled in beside Sans, taking a swig of your drink. Mmmm. It’s been a while. You felt the rum buzzing like an angry beehive in your throat as it went down. Sans’ bony fingers gripped the remote and carelessly panned through the channels before settling on what appeared to be a telenovela.

 

_ “PERO, GUILLERMO...TE AMO. POR FAVOR, NO DEJAME SOLO OTRA VEZ” _

 

“ha! what the fuck is this?”

 

The woman on screen appeared to be wearing the body portion of a bear suit. “Guillermo” was wearing what appeared to be a scuba suit holding a cat.

 

“Oh, this? This is a Spanish soap opera. Even if you understand them, sometimes they don’t make a lot of sense.”

 

“humans have more than one language?”

 

“Yeah. There are hundreds of different languages.”

 

“i...i can’t imagine. yer the same species, but you don’t understand each other all the time? and you had trouble with monsters?”

 

A fair point. Even after monsters were sealed away, humans just started fighting with each other. Understanding was definitely a department where humans were lacking. Guillermo dropped his cat with a loud hiss, cupped his bear-woman’s face in his hands, and they began to passionately kiss as the credits rolled. Sans’ once amused expression got a little tenser and he sipped nervously on his drink, fumbling for the remote. He relaxed when he settled on a relatively innocuous science channel. He retired his arm along the back of the sofa, behind you.

 

“hey.”

 

You felt his fettered eye contact settle on you, gauging your reactions. Your chest tightened. When you looked back, he didn’t bashfully look away, but you could feel heat rising in your cheeks, mirroring the blue in his.

 

“you ever thought about kissing? like kissing me?”

 

_ Oh fuck, do I ever.  _ You trembled, and wondered how to respond without sounding overzealous.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Sans finally looked down, anxiously, but his arm remained behind you.

 

“can i? kiss you?”

 

“Please.”

 

You thought you heard him release his breath.

 

Heart painfully throbbing in your chest. This was it. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t have lips, or flesh, but the idea of him pecking you on the mouth, the image of him against your face brought a disastrous heat to your fingertips and toes. He shifted closer to you, sure but timid, only slightly taller than you. You wanted so desperately to keep your eyes peeled open, to watch him, but you allowed your eyelids to close as he drew closer. 

 

One of his sculptural hands brushed your jaw and tilted your chin up to him, the warmth of his hard maw pressing against your lips forcefully. You reached up to place your hand gently on his zygomatic process, the area where his cheek would have begun to meet the back of his head. He exhaled deeply, sighing against your lips. You felt your body gravitate towards his, scooting closer as he angled your head with his hand. The wet clicking of your lips against him earned you a sigh of approval. You spent a minute like this before he pulled away. His hand remained lightly supporting your jaw, which was fortunate, because you feared it would fall off. 

 

He looked at you, trying to gage your reaction. With flush embarrassment, you realized he’d looked at you this way before, when he’d been instructed to as part of a lab with Alphys; his head cocked to the side, cheeks blue and eyes soft and lidded.

 

There were a lot of things you wanted to say, like “ _ THAT WAS GREAT CAN WE GO AGAIN, K THANKS.”, “Wow.” and “Don’t ever leave me.” _ But you didn’t want to poison this perfect moment. You let him speak in his devastatingly low voice, even deeper than usual, clouded with what you assumed was faint arousal.

 

“i really like you”

 

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. His fingers traced the hellfire on your face, reminding you he was keenly aware you liked him, too. 

 

“i want to try something.”

 

That wasn’t a statement, that was a question. A shiver ran down your spine for his amusement. 

 

“Yes.”

 

His eyes brightened, and his free hand found itself on the small of your back, as his other hand moved to the back of your neck, a smile forming as he felt the pulse of your throbbing heart. He pulled you closer until your body was flush with his, essentially in his lap. His broadness sent a flicker of desire through you as his grip on the back of your neck became insistent.

 

“open your mouth.”

 

You wished he wouldn’t watch you like that, so predatorily, as you opened your mouth just a hair. Pleased, he aggressively began to kiss you again. Your eyes snapped shut and you let out a whisper of a moan, surprised as your teeth briefly collided. You were rewarded with a flash of blue light that seeped in through the thin membrane of your eyelids. Something warm and wet gave your lower lip an experimental swipe, immediately followed by the gentle nip of parted teeth. With labored breath, you let it inside.

 

The wet noises of your mouths were punctuated with the occasional whimper and frantic stabilizing breath as Sans hand roamed from your lower back to your ticklish side. He groaned in approval when your eyelashes tickled his face, pressing his thigh against your center weakly to see your reaction. Responsively, you pressed your core to him almost automatically. When you realized what you were doing, you pulled away, a thin string of saliva trailing from your mouth, adding to your mortification. You made a noise that was part moan and part pitiful whine, and covered your inflamed face. Sans seemed to think it was less shameful and more arousing and let out a husky chuckle. 

 

“so eager to  _ bone _ ...”

 

“Sans!”

 

The rumble of laughter coursed through his ribcage and into you. Bony fingers brushed a course from your elbow to your hands, soothingly. When the peals of casual laughter died down, he relaxed into a lulling hum, gently rocking with you.

 

“i wanna do things to ya.”

 

You could feel pearls of sweat pooling on the back of your neck as enjoyment coiled deep within your stomach. Hands still over your face, you nodded, horrified at your immodest approval. 

 

“shh shh. i wanna see you. don’t hide your face. just keep looking at me, kid.”

 

Firm hands pulled at your wrists, and you could see his stare. He was intrigued, and definitely turned on. He was confident; but his hands were shaking. Had he been waiting for this even half as long as you had? Your vision was blurry with tears of exertion and shyness. Sans licked his lips and watched you quake. He gave you a reassuring smile, and guided you to sit between his legs. You could feel the warm outline of his member pressed to your back.  _ Oh thank goodness. We’re compatible. _

 

In the revelry of your discovery, you failed to notice him tactfully undoing your jeans until you felt a gust of cold air hit your exposed pelvis.

 

“do me a favor, sugar, and watch.”

 

The scarcest contact of his index finger slipped under the elastic of your now exposed underwear.

 

“and tell me to stop if things get out of  _ hand. _ ” He blew in your ear.

 


	12. Solidarity (!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sans finish what you started and articulate your feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, decided this lemon bar was big enough to constitute a chapter. NSFW, once again. I should be studying, why do I keep writing this stuff? HELP. This is a short chapter, so if you don't want to read the naughty bits, you could probably skip over it at the expense of some fluff. I'm going to start marking chapters with dubious content with an (!).

This was not a happy occasion. There was relief in the fact that Sans needed you like you needed him, but each touch; every kiss left you more desperate to keep him to yourself, ignoring the law. The eroticism of him, his sweet attention to detail, his careful consideration of you...it was intoxicating. A hot, languid tongue caressed the junction of your shoulder and neck, followed by a controlled nip. A breathy keen came from deep inside of you, and you had no desire to stifle it. He rewarded you with a groan of his own, and slowly sank his hand deeper down the front of your underwear. Two dexterous fingers traced the length of your slit, and then parted it. One finger moved to stroke the periphery of your labia, teasingly darting in an impatient circle around your button. The close proximity was a thrill, and you encouraged him by pressing the apex of your ass against his engorged cock through his pants. Delighted by the friction, he looped one hand under your thigh, pulling you closer and also parting your legs for better access. Now he was thrusting his crotch into your backside, forcefully enough to part your ass cheeks by a margin.

 

 He hadn’t even put his dick in you and images of him bending you over and taking you from behind clouded your imagination. Reeling in the exchange, his finger probed your entrance...circling the soft ring, and then, watching your face carefully, he dipped the tip into your drenched cunt.

 

“ff-fuck...that’s how ya feel inside?”

 

You felt the swell of the digit as he slowly pushed it into the second joint. His finger was not cushioned, it was rough, and solid as it explored your interior. The sensation should have been uncomfortable, but instead it fed your arousal. A second finger breached you, adding a pleasant stretch. Instinctively, your channel gave a squeeze, which contented Sans. You frowned as his fingers left you.

 

Holding a solitary skeletal hand to the light, the rubbed his fingers together, coating them in your juices. Looking at his expression in the periphery of your vision, you expected disgust, but only saw hooded eyes and dangerous intent. Catching your observation, he took a finger and placed it in his mouth, licking it clean to the junction with his bright blue tongue. Preserving the other, he pushed it into your mouth. With any other person, you’d be put off, but as you sucked his finger clean, he looked at you with pure endearment.

 

“good girl. suck.”

 

You gave his finger an obedient swirl of your tongue.

 

“that’s how ya taste...so wet for me already, fff-fuck.”

 

Releasing his finger with a wet pop, Sans reassessed the situation. Releasing your thigh, he hooked a finger into a belt loop on both sides and tugged, freeing you of both your pants and underpants. Suddenly shy, you clenched your thighs together, your center bare and Sans definitely staring from over your shoulder.

 

“Sans…”

 

“c’mon, don’t be so modest. i wanna see. show me, beautiful.”

 

The overdose of affection and lust was so uniquely Sans, and left you floating, like a bong rip to the heart. _Please, just fuck me stupid. Fuck all of my brains out._

 

Hesitantly, you parted yourself for him. With one hand, he parted your labia, and with the other, he gave your clit a torpid rub, only to sheathe two fingers completely into you. His mouth met your ear, tickling you with his breath.

 

“that’sa good girl. now do me a favor, _sugar_ , and show me your tits.”

 

You considered getting off to his voice and lewd comments alone before warily lifting the bottom hem of your shirt and bra over the swell of your chest. Exposed to the crisp air, the pink peaks of your nipples hardened.

 

“yesss. so fuckin’ pretty. all of ya. so much better than the girls in the videos. so hard to get off to you in my room, with you on the other side of th’ wall…”

 

He trailed off, fingers skillfully scissoring you. You felt the warmth of your fluids and sweat trickling into a single drop, rolling down your ass cheek. The thought of Sans madly pumping himself to climax, biting down to hide his moans with you only inches away through the wall brought a wry moan to your lips. Sans seemed to appreciate the noises you made, and started rhythmically pumping his fingers in and out.

 

“Ungh! Sans!”

 

“ff-fuck, yes. say my name.”

 

“Sans! Please!”

 

The hand he used to part you disappeared behind you, and you heard the snap of his elastic waistband, followed by a long sigh and a hard warmth touching your lower back. You couldn’t see it from your position, but you saw Sans spit on his hand, and watched him pump something just out of sight with cathartic relief.

 

“you do this to me, precious. it’s getting real _hard_ to focus.”

 

His pun was bad but you mewled with delight.

 

“i’m gonna make you cum. ya want me to fingerfuck you, doll?”

 

 _“_ Ughh, yes. No shit, Sherlock. Fuck me _.”_

 

He gave you a smirk as he began driving his fingers into you with some force, rapidly picking up the speed.

 

“Yesssssss” you hissed.

 

“‘yes’ what?”

 

“Yesss Sans, yesss”

 

“atta girl. push back a little. nghhh. right there.”

 

Sans pulled you back just a little, and started to stroke himself while pressing against the fat of your posterior. The wetness of his saliva and precum transferred to your tail.

 

Guiding your impending orgasm, Sans began to circle your clit with the pad of his thumb, the other two fingers pumping in and out of you, making lewd wet sounds. Every several seconds, he curled them internally with a ‘come hither’ motion.

 

“are ya close?”

 

“....yes”

 

“then try real hard to come for me, babe. can ya do that?”

 

“Mmmm yesssss-s-s”

 

A third finger filled you snugly, and you imagined the texture of Sans’ cock and how it would feel inside you. It felt thick and heavy against your ass…you started to clench, peaking. Sans forced the length of his rod between your ass cheeks, using your ass as friction as he pumped the base. His groans were getting louder, and he was whispering your name under his breath. His chants drove you over the edge.

 

“aghh, your pussy is so soft. you’re so ff-fucking soft.”

 

That did you in. You came with a cry, passage clenching on his fingers, your nether regions throbbing in waves, body surrounded in a cocoon of heat. You were partially aware of the head of Sans’ cock pressing against your back entrance, sending a dangerous thrill through you in the light of your aftershock. He pressed against the bud, still tweaking your clit, not hard enough to penetrate, but enough to drive you and himself wild. He firmly stroked his shaft, shouting intelligibly in his climax, hot seed hitting your skin, travelling between the globes of your ass to the junction of your legs and running warmly down your thigh.

 

You sat in the aftermath, his arms wrapping around you adoringly. His head rested at your shoulder. For all his nasty banter, he was just a skeleton with a crush.

 

As the orgasm wore off, you found yourself unable to stop the hot tears that rolled down your face, and the few that rolled by your ear into Sans’ cheek. You did not see him cry, but as he turned his face into your shoulder, you saw his body bounce with sobs.

 

“what am I gonna do….?”

 

“I don’t know Sans” you sniffled. “I don’t know. I like you too.”

 

“i know. about a week back you started saying my name while ya were sleepin’.”

 

“WHAT?” Sans looked up, looking at your eyes, as wide as saucers.

 

“yeah. cute shit. Like ‘hold me, sans’. I could hear ya right through the wall.”

 

 _Nononononononono_.

 

Neither of you were crying anymore. You were just looking at him in abject terror, eyes misty. Amused, he tried to replicate your pitch in falsetto.

 

“sans please. i need you. please come out of your room and fuck me immediately. did you get all that?”

 

“I DID NOT SAY THAT.”

 

“yeah, ya didn’t say that one. It’s mostly just ‘hold me, sans’. still pretty cute though.”

 

His cheeks were flushed a heady shade of cerulean before in the afterglow of orgasm, but they roared to life again.

 

“Yeah? Well what about all those times I heard you in your room? I was convinced you were falling out of bed in the middle of the night. You’ve mentioned you have bad dreams before. But I’d bet anything a good half of the times you woke me up you were choking your chicken to my good name.”

 

“that’s possible.”

 

“What the hell, Sans, you’re not even ashamed.”

 

“nah.”

 

All of those nights when you had him on your mind, he was in there, fapping away to your image. His honesty made you bashful. As you stood, both of you simultaneously recognized the glowing blue mess you’d made. Sans stood, and you saw his penis for the first time. It was of an impressive length, but a more remarkable girth, and composed of the same blue glowing gel that his tongue seemed to be. He coyly tucked it into his stained sweatpants, and grabbed some paper towels from the kitchen. You stood there, letting him wipe the interior of your legs, hyper conscientious of his gaze. He made no remark. After you were relatively clean, you shimmied back into your underwear, and curled by his side on the couch, once again watching TV.

 

“Sans...are you sure you don’t want to do anything else?”

 

The invitation was meant to sound selfless, but even so soon after coupling you wanted to go explore newer territory. Sans stiffened, looking melancholy once again.

 

“it’s not about what i want. if it were we’d make love all fucking day and get pizza. but i can’t...i can’t be with ya and know it may be the last time. sorry...i couldn’t go back to that.”

 

Solemnity filled the room. Light in a time of darkness.

 

“...Would you like me to order pizza?”

 

“ _dough_ it.”

 

You spent the quiet evening in mutual reverence with Sans. You didn’t say much until it was time to go to bed.

 

“hey.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“sleep in my bed with me. i wanna know what that feels like.”

  
Sans didn’t have a nightmare that night.


	13. If the Love Fits, You Must Acquit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last person you'd expect to comes through for you, and gives you the kick in the butt you need to shed some light on this situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHA, I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself with the chapter title. Sorry it's been a while! My finals are over now, so be on the lookout for chapters dropping more frequently.

 

 Once, when you were a child, you’d fallen off a swingset and broken your arm. Sure, it was heartachingly painful, but thinking back on it, the pain isn’t what stood out in the memory. You felt the throbbing, but the pain was distant...oceans away. It felt like it was someone else. Adults carried you off, you were driven to the hospital; the break was set and you walked out with a cast. It felt more like an unpleasant dream, a mute numbness of shock clouding your perception of that day. It was a strangely unsettling feeling. 

 

You didn’t think you’d feel that again; that is, until you woke up, nested tightly in Sans’ bed, sans Sans. Taking in the situation, the alarm blinked tauntingly in your peripheral vision, turned off a good two hours before it was set to go off. Rolling to face the vacant side of the bed, you heard the phantom crinkle of a piece of paper. Adjusting yourself in bed, you picked up a note knowing full well what it would say. 

 

_ mornin’ sunshine. sleep well? i couldn’t. it’s not that i didn’t want to see ya...i just didn’t want you to see ya say goodbye, ya know? i’d never in a million years wish for a reset. this timeline is here to stay. but that also means i may not get to be on the same side of the bars as you for a long time. sorry. i called pap to take me. i’ll look into visitation and phone calls. i want to hear ya...just not right now. last night happened pretty fast, and i need some time. please don’t think of me as a  _ **_cell_ ** _ -out.  _

 

_ -s _

 

 Okay, so you hadn’t been expecting the pun, but that was pretty word for word what you’d imagined it would be. You felt okay, all things considered, you thought, until you looked down at your violently shaking hands as they tore the note to pieces. Instantly, a torrent of hot tears came like a strange tropical squall from your eyes, hands frantically trying to straighten out and piece the note back together. It was an unhappy memento, but you felt like Sans would slip from your memory if you didn’t have something physical to latch on to. The pain was far superior to the numbness, and you willed yourself to feel it, loud wails coming from deep within your diaphragm, white knuckles in his bedsheets. 

 

 So, here you were, an unremarkable four days later, wearing the same clothes you’d worn yesterday, wrapped up in one of Sans’ favorite parkas.  _ That  _ was clean. It smelled like him. You’d skipped a day of work, ordered takeout for roughly three-fourths of your meals over the past four days; and sat nestled into the couch, eyes watching the TV, but mind wandering. The phone had been ringing off the hook. Alphys, Olive, Papyrus, Toriel...the names didn’t matter because they weren’t Sans.

 

 In retrospect, it probably looked unusual that you were so greatly affected. Sure, everyone knew you and Sans got along surprisingly well, but you doubted anyone besides Papyrus had insight into your recent adventures. Honestly, you weren’t even sure he’d told Papyrus anything, and it was only the insistence of his calls that clued you in. You didn’t really know if you wanted to discuss it anyway- Sans seemed to want some distance. Thinking back on it, Toriel must be feeling similarly about Asgore, and still had taken the time to call. How brutal it must be, to have to be strong for your child when your heart is in despair. You saw the way she talked about Asgore. Clearly affronted, but she loved him deep down. 

 

  There was a quarter on the coffee table in front of you. You hunched over to snatch it. Here is the wager:

 

_ Heads, I keep doing whatever it is I’m doing. Tails, I pick up the phone the next time it rings. _

  
  


  Fate, seemingly feeling trivial, provoked a phone call. The phone began to ring and vibrate intimidatingly. 

 

_ Now or never. _

 

You flipped the coin, and frowned as you picked up the phone without looking at the ID.

 

You did not recognize the frantic, pitchy voice on the other line.

 

“Ay! She picked up. Kid! Kid.”

 

“Hello? Who is-”

 

“SHH.  _ Shhh. _ Look. I’ll level with you. You’ve not got the  _ slightest _ idea who I am. But I’m calling because I know who you are. You see, my best girl’s been calling you for days. I think she thinks she did something wrong...BUT. Sans is in jail. And you’re depressed. I’m putting two and two together, Sans was whackin’ it to humans and all, and you’re a mess. You kids were fooling around.”

 

“Excuse me, who are-”

 

“I’m Burgerpants. Judge me not. It’s a long story. We’re talking about  _ you _ right now.”

 

“Okay. Burgershorts-”

 

“Burgerpants. I’m Olive’s beau.”

 

“Right, Burger _ pants _ , of course. I think this is kind of a personal conversation to be having with a stranger, so-”

 

“Don’t you DARE hang up. You are being an absolute  _ menace  _ right now. SUPPOSEDLY, you give a damn about Sans. So riddle me this- why aren’t you trying to help right now? Toriel, Frisk, Papyrus and Alphys have been compiling an appeal for days, filing for a mistrial. It may not help Asgore, but it could get your  _ boy the hell out of jail. _ SO WHY have YOU not been THERE?”

 

“A mistrial?”

 

“Look, missy, this is your judicial system, not mine. In mine, if you have a problem, a skeleton tells a fish and- you know what, nevermind. My point is, if we’re reading into this right, once a verdict has been reached, you cannot be tried again in court. That’s ‘double jeopardy’. Just like the TV show. But if the trial was not correctly conducted, then you can have it revisited. AS IN, WE CAN BOUNCE SANS. If you just  _ give a single damn.” _

 

“What do they need from me?”

 

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? DO I HAVE TO SPOONFEED YOU? You have access to his computer, for starters. The prosecution classified the human deaths as hate crimes. If you can prove Sans did them out of self defense, or if you can prove Sans doesn’t hate humans, that puts a serious dent in that theory.”

 

“Umm...thanks, Burgerpants. I don’t know why you called, but I’m glad you did. Knocked some sense into me. I’ll contact the others.”

 

“I didn’t do it for  _ you _ . I’m accruing boyfriend points. But I’ll take credit. And if we’re going to be honest, I did it for Sans. He’s a cool dude. Now get off the phone and  _ do something _ , gosh.”

 

The other line clicked.

 

_ That isn’t really the kind of guy I’d imagine Olive going for. But I really wouldn’t have put myself with a skeleton, to tell the truth. _

 

The comparison made your cheeks warm. Girlfriend status would be nice. But that was something you could work out when the object of your affections wasn’t in prison. Your nimble fingers, coated in snack residue dialed Papyrus. He probably had the least to do, intellectually, with the project, but, Papyrus was a very dedicated friend who was probably more distraught over his brother than you were, and it had been selfish not to comfort him. 

 

Papyrus picked up on the first ring.

 

“Human.”

 

You shuddered at his voice. You’d never heard Papyrus’ volume go any lower than an eleven.

 

“Papyrus...I want to help. I’m sorry...I’ve been dealing with things the wrong way.”

 

“HUMAN. I’VE BEEN CALLING FOR DAYS.”

 

“I know, Papyrus. I can’t imagine how worried you were. I’m so sorry. I want to help you and the others get Sans out of jail. You can be angry with me, but can I at least help with that?”

 

“...I COULD NEVER BE ANGRY WITH YOU. BUT I WAS WORRIED YOU WOULD NOT LIKE MY BROTHER ANYMORE.”

 

“Pap...of course I like Sans. I like you and Sans.”

 

“NO, NOT THAT WAY. WHEN I DROPPED OFF SANS, HE TOLD ME HE HAD TO LEAVE WITHOUT YOU BECAUSE HE LIKED YOU TOO MUCH TO SEE YOU SAD.” 

 

Your heart hurt. 

 

“Sans and I are trying to figure out what there is between us, but yes. I like Sans a lot, too. We can talk about this when he’s out.”

 

“IF YOU ARE FEELING UP TO IT...WE’RE AT ALPHY’S OFFICE RIGHT NOW.”

 

“I’ll be right there, Papyrus.”

 

You could audibly hear his jaw click into a smile. Just the sort of thing that made Papyrus such a sweet person.

  
Shyly, you removed Sans’ jacket. Even if Sans had feelings for you, it would be rather forward to wear his clothes among his friends. You washed yourself up, trying to hide the past several days from your face, and then tossed Sans’ laptop, your journal and your keys into a bag. 


	14. Do-Overs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans ruminates about his emotions and detainment; you find yourself in a fishy situation and Sans' charges are revisited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, maybe now we can do this thing proper, right? Thanks for the continued support, everyone! I love reading your reactions and suggestions.

 Sans sat, morose, on an unsightly chair, alone in his cell. Recreation hour was not for another five hours, and only then would he be able to chat with Asgore.

 

Eyes scanned the room. Flimsy iron bars. Soft concrete. Squishy humans. If he really had no respect for the system, and if he really hated humans so, he could easily blow through a wall and escape. What kept him imprisoned was compassion. He really didn’t want to kill the guards, even if they were less than pleasant, and he certainly didn’t want to breed civil fear between species. If he were not obedient, humans may consider monsters a threat and have them interned. His happiness was not worth all of theirs...nor was it worth losing the trust of  _ her. _

 

Sans had been on his absolute best behavior mainly for her sake...perhaps if the guards saw his penitence they’d allow him to call her, or maybe if he was exceptionally lucky, permit a visitation. When he left, he’d hoped that some separation would ease the thrum of his emotions, but that was a fallacy. He was quickly coming to terms with the idea of a prison romance. He reconciled that selfishness by justifying that he’d be silent about his affections so she could move on while he stayed agonizingly infatuated. 

 

It wasn’t so much what she did as how she did it...his soul didn’t throb when she came home from work, but it did when she meticulously opened the door, so as not to make a sound, and poked her head in to see if he was sleeping on the sofa. No matter how tired from work she was, if he was sleeping on the couch, she’d tiptoe soundlessly to her room, taking care not to rouse him. If he was awake, she’d always glow with a new vigor and tell him about her day. 

 

It wasn’t that she sometimes made extras for breakfast to give him. It was how she incorporated ketchup into his portion, often making more work for herself.,

 

It wasn’t that she talked in her sleep, it was how she’d call out to him in the night, and smile when he tucked her in.

 

He couldn’t bear to tell her, because she would be mortified, but the first time he’d heard her chirping his name, urgently in her sleep, he’d been convinced she was awake. When he’d come into her room, he’d seen her tossing and turning, duvet kicked off of all but her shins. Against his better judgement, he pulled the duvet back up to her chin, and she stopped stirring and whimpering, and sighed with a content smile. 

 

He wondered, sadly, if she still tossed and turned now that he was away.

 

A guard interrupted his mental monologue.

 

“Hey, skeleton. There’s someone here to see you. Hands out.”

 

Cuffing him when someone went into his cell was a standard procedure, and he immediately placed his bones through the hole in the barred wall. 

 

“someone to see me? i’ve been given visitation privileges?”

 

“No. It’s your legal representative. Call out when you’re done.”   
  


A bored, balding middle aged man Sans vaguely remembered from the proceedings appeared from the right. The guard slunk out of reach but not out of sight. 

 

“Mr...uh…”

 

The man filed through his papers. 

 

“Snowdin. Recently, some of your friends have been in touch with me. I must submit it to the appellate courts, but they seem to think you’ve been mistrialed. My legal opinion is...yes. I think you have been. Mind if I share some of the particulars?”

 

_ my friends? _

 

“Now, there’s procedural stuff, like the way the case was conducted, but there’s also how your charges are classified as hate crimes and murders. You never actually killed anyone, correct?”

 

_ not unless you count frisk. but they were pretty alive last time i checked, so i think maybe i’ll omit that detail. _

 

“no.”

 

“I also don’t think hate crime is an accurate statement. Your friends have been submitting evidence for my review. I won’t lie. It’s of a...personal nature. But it could help exonerate you.”

 

“personal how?”

 

“Well, for starters, I have data from Dr. Hotland’s research”

 

“dr. hotland?”

 

“Yes. Miss Alphys Hotland.”

 

“oh, yes, alphys. that research would have been published in her findings anyway. i don’t mind, i guess.”

 

“That’s not really what I was concerned about. I have some search data from your computer that seems to imply you don’t hate humans as much as you want to...uh, date them.”

 

His sockets went wide. His laptop? She must have brought it to the others. Blue littered his cheeks. 

 

“ _ that’s _ being admitted to the court?”

 

“With your permission. Your relationship with the girl is one of our best leads. You have searches about ‘how to kiss’, ‘how to ask someone out’ and ‘human female sexual anatomy’ along with some more...recreational searches.”

 

_ if she brought it in, she must be okay with it. _

 

“alright. do it. file for a retrial...and, uh, if you don’t mind me asking...when can i get out of here?”

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

The answer came the same day that Sans was allowed a personal call. He wanted to call her, so unbelievably bad...but he could not forsake his brother. When Papyrus jubilantly accepted the call, he felt a comfortable warmth deep within the recesses of his soul. A tranquility he had not had in days. It was quickly followed by a jolt of realization. 

 

“SANS!”

 

“pap. they let me call you today...a lawyer guy visited me two days ago. you guys have been working real hard trying to spring me, huh?”

 

“SURE HAVE, BROTHER. EVERYONE IS HERE- TORIEL, ALPHYS, OLIVE, FRISK, THE HUMAN-”

 

“pap. she’s there? as in right now?”

 

“YES, THAT’S WHAT I SAID. WE’RE ALL ORGANIZI-”

 

A swell of compassion and relief filled him.

 

“-SANS?”

 

“oh, what was that again, pap?”

 

“I SAID...I SAID I MISS YOU. IT WILL BE GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN.”

 

Suddenly, Sans felt guilty. He could spare this moment for just his brother. His phone call was being timed, he had exactly fifteen minutes. Papyrus had been telling him of a burnt spaghettti-related tragedy for thirteen when he was rewarded for his patience.

 

“-AND I’M AFRAID THE MARINARA COULD NOT BE SALVAGED. IT WAS TOO FAR GON- OH, YES, I’M SPEAKING WITH SANS! HE WAS PERMITTED A CALL TODAY...YES! THAT’S A WONDERFUL IDEA.”

 

“pap?” 

 

There was a shuffling sound, and a new voice nervously cleared their throat.

 

“S-sans? Is that, err, you?”

 

“alphys? hey there. papyrus says you’ve been working your keister off.”

 

“Yes. W-we all have been making time. I’m sure you’ll be out in n-no time. I’m going to pass the p-phone now, okay?”

 

“thanks a million. goodby-”

 

“Hello? Sans?”

 

“toriel? guess who?”

 

“Oh thank goodness you are doing well. Are you being treated well?”

 

“i suppose, under the circumstances”

 

“What a relief. Perhaps you could give my love to Asgore?”

 

“i will, tori, i promise. tell frisk i’ll be out in no time and we can play cops and robbers with a new authenticity.”

 

“Yes, of course. Oh- yes! Someone you should speak to, Sans. Take care!”

 

Another shuffle and Sans’ smile dropped. Her voice was nearly a whisper over the phone, and suddenly Sans was counting the seconds.

 

“...Sans?”

 

“good afternoon.”

 

Her voice warbled a little bit like she was trying to stiffen her upper lip. 

 

“How are you?...God, that was a stupid question…”

 

“i’m better now. better when we can talk face to skull...i just want you to know, i want to do this right when i get out of here.”

 

“So...you’re not dumping me?”

 

_ what? _

 

“no, of course i’m not, kiddo. i haven’t even asked you to be my girlfriend yet. if i get out of here, we’re going on cheesy dates, writing poems, the whole monty-”

 

“ _ When _ .”

 

“when. when i get out of here. Understand?...I miss you. I can’t-”

 

A timer went off. An insistent guard bullied Sans away from the receiver.

 

“bye!”

 

“Sans!”

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


The phone clicked with finality. The friendly banter of the others in the room stopped in a knowing silence. 

 

“What are you guys looking at? Let’s get Sans out of there.”

 

So much has happened in so little time. In just a couple weeks, you’ve gone from virtually friendless to casually jammed between Papyrus and Frisk, sharing various snacks as you compiled documents and pored over legal books. Toriel calmly highlighted a ‘Criminal Court for Dummies’ book while Olive collated papers and handed them to you for review. 

 

Now, you could easily forget that most of these people were the monsters that polluted your nightmares as a child. It was easier for you to see past the exterior, whereas, about three weeks ago, seeing Sans and Alphys for the first time had knocked you out cold. Maybe you hadn’t figured out your long term living situation, but you had a support network now. 

 

Alphys, the brains of the operation, had been considerate enough to not disclose the entirety of your involvement with Sans, but she had pulled you aside to issue a warning.

 

“L-look. I’m very happy for y-you two, but, uh...we may not be able to continue the s-study this way. We’ll deal with that w-when it becomes important, but that means you’ll have to...to find new places to live.”

 

If that was the price to be paid for being ‘out’ with Sans, you’d cross that bridge when you got to it...he still seemed keen on you when you’d spoken on the phone which gave you the energy to continue. 

 

A small legal team would meet with you early tomorrow morning, and if they deemed your findings sufficient, then they’d convene that day to decide Sans’ fate.

 

You couldn’t sleep the night before. They’d be bringing in Sans for the proceedings. Even if you didn’t get to speak, you felt dizzy at the thought of making eye contact- you’d seen each other every day for several weeks, and sometimes even did awkward lab exercises where you made eye contact in different social situations and then vocalized if it went on too long. Alphys had a very ambitious scope for her research.

 

Whirlwinds of excitement jettisoning you from bed, you squeezed yourself in a hoity-toity real adult pantsuit. Looking in the mirror, primping, you vogued.  _ Am I a court atendee? Or am I a high-powered yuppy attorney? Can you even tell? _

 

You continued your playful mental dialogue (you  _ really  _ hadn’t slept much) and shoved out the door, bagel in mouth. The rest of the crew were assembled in a semicircle outside the courthouse. Before you could get close, Toriel caught you.

 

“My dear, I think perhaps you should keep your distance. There is an...inconvenient situation we are trying to solve.”

 

Eyebrow raised, you shot Toriel a suspicious look. 

 

“Many people offered to come support Sans. Many monsters. And we are unsure how to facilitate you and them simultaneously.”

 

Peering over Toriel’s massive shoulder, you could see an assorted bunch of monsters, all uncomfortably crammed in business suits. Olive, looking surprisingly finished, leaned affectionately on what appeared to be a giant tan...uh…cat? You presumed it must be Burgerpants. He was donning what appeared to be a pinstripe suit selected from a thrift store. The shoulder pads suggested it was either a zoot suit or made for women. It didn’t seem to bother him or Olive. There was another monster you could identify, an impressively fit blue, scaly fish-woman, who was candidly engaging in stretches and calisthenics with Alphys. Alphys appeared to be wearing a specially tailored skirtsuit, but Undyne (the casual girlfriend Alphys mentioned every, I don’t know,  _ three seconds)  _ was wearing a button down oxford shirt and tan slacks, which you feared would give with every jumpingjack. The usual crowd was all starched and pressed as well, including a Papyrus with a hilariously formal bowtie. 

 

Even in the entertaining ambience, you could see Toriel’s concern. There were a good eight or nine monsters there that you’d never met, and would probably panic in the presence of. 

 

“In so far, our only solution has been to put you on the end of the bench...which would seat you directly next to Undyne.”

 

Oh.

 

“Undyne may be a very necessary person. She worked on the royal guard and can clarify a great deal of things. I am unsure what action to take.”

 

Toriel nervously tugged at her white pencil skirt. With her little spectacles, she could easily be mistaken for a CEO or a senator. She commanded authority wherever she went.

 

“I’ll do it. I can sit next to Undyne, right? I mean, I’m nervous, but it is Alphys’ special lady. We would meet eventually. It...uh, it may help if I met her, Tori.”

 

Toriel seemed genuinely thrown off by your suggestion. Before she could protest, you nodded affirmatively. Toriel sighed, and waved Alphys and Undyne’s attention. Toriel went to go speak to them as you stood on an awkward orbit of the boisterous group. A moment later, Toriel approached, this time with Undyne at her left.

 

_ Jesus H. Christ, she’s even more statuesque up close. _

 

Undyne was about the same height as Toriel, but made, it seemed, entirely out of lean muscle mass. Her scales shone a lovely shade of sea green that you would have complimented if you weren’t scared shitless. Her heavy brow, furrowed tensely implied she’d gladly clock you if you rubbed her the wrong way, which paired with her- frankly, swamp monster facade was a pants-shitting combination.

 

“Uh...heh uh, hello. I’m-”

 

“You. You’re SANS’ HUMAN, right?!”

 

You never wondered if it was possible to be frightened and embarrassed at the same time, but know you knew.

 

“That...that wording may be, uh, a little strong…”

 

“Goatmom here told me to take it down a notch. Hah! My notch only goes up, baby! I’m the real deal. You’re not intimidated, right? RIGHT?”

 

Her voice had the ability to project and your ears were kind of ringing.

 

“Uh..no, no, not at all. Nice t-to meet you-”

 

“Name’s UNDYNE. Don’t forget it!”

 

Undyne put her hand forth, and you looked at Toriel pleadingly. She didn’t seem to know how to get you out of this one.

 

You mustered as firm of a grip as you possibly could, but Undyne seemed disappointed in your limp noodle handshake.

 

Sitting in such close proximity to her should have unsettled you, but when the hearing started, you were riveted by the process, and anxious to help. You stopped noticing her after a while. That was truly a testament to Alphys’ work.

 

Alphys and Sans’ standoffish court-appointed legal representation would be doing most of the talking, which was good, because when Sans came into the room, weary, with bags under his eyesockets, he was still the most beautiful thing you’d seen in days. They had him swaddled in ill-fitting blue scrubs, and when he caught your unblinking gaze, he gave a smile and a brief wink.

“Ma’am?”

 

The presiding judge looked at you expectantly. 

 

“Oh! Yes. Sorry, your honor. Can you repeat?”

 

“The defense claims you and the man before you have become close. What impression do you have of Mr. Snowdin’s attitudes on humans?”

 

You stood on shaking limbs, hands behind your back. It was now or never.

 

“Your honor, when Sans and I first met, I would say that he was as afraid of humans as I was of monsters...however, the aim of Alphys’ research was to bridge the communication barrier between species. Her data will show you how successful she’s been in that respect.”

 

Hesitantly, you looked around the room to gage reactions before continuing.

 

“As roommates, Sans and I gradually got used to each other’s presence, and just as he grew accustomed to Olive and Frisk, he’s now familiar with me. In all our time together, he has never once engaged in anti-human sentiment, nor could I find any in his internet browsing.”

 

Sans’ representative shot you a look, urging you to go on. A cold sweat peppered the nape of your neck, as you looked at Sans for reassurance.

 

“Uh...among his browsing history, for instance, were various searches into human social customs and human anatomy.”

 

“Is it not possible that he could be searching these things to fool humans?”

 

“No. There was more...Frisk, cover your ears please…searches about learning to kiss and how to...uh, physically gratify a human partner, as well as some videos of related content.”

 

Sans looked down to escape any eye contact. You wish you had the same liberty.

 

“Do you have reason to believe that Mr. Snowdin was learning these things to use them, or could he simply be satisfying curiosity?”

 

“I have a notebook on file where we could ask each other species-related questions we didn’t feel comfortable asking in person. I think if he’d simply wanted an answer, he’d have written it there.”

 

“...Ma’am, before you conclude your statement, I have one last question. What is your relationship with Mr. Snowdin?”

 

“Umm...your honor? We really have not had the time to discuss it.”

 

“Very well. We will deliberate now.”

 

It was only a lightning fast fifteen minutes before the jury finished.

 

“With a resounding agreement, the jury has decided that Mr. Sans Snowdin, currently being detained for assisted murder and hate crime will be...expunged of that charge. We have found that Mr. Snowdin acted merely in defence of his sovereign, and there is no sufficient evidence to charge him with a hate crime.”

  
  



	15. Borrowed Books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sans have your first real conversation since this mess started, you get nostalgic, and Sans resolves to take you on a night out on the town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DATING, START!

Toriel wanted to be jubilant at Sans’ release, but she withdrew from the group after the successful ruling. You followed suit. You desperately wanted to get your fill of Sans (in more way than one, admittedly), but he was being bumrushed by his monster comrades...and you were sure that Papyrus would need some quality time with his brother. Even living apart, they spoke every day. Sans being gone for a bit less than a week was probably an unprecedented disaster for him, and yet somehow he’d managed to hold himself together enough to help with the case file.

 

You knew why Toriel was distancing herself- it was a victory, but a hollow one. Asgore was still in jail. Part of you thought rightly so, but you couldn’t help but feel like you couldn’t grasp the circumstances of his crimes. Empathetically, you placed a palm on Toriel’s shoulder. Her height made it awkward, but she smiled halfheartedly at the gesture. Nothing you said would make it any better, so you just tried to be there with her in the moment. Frisk, excited at their reunion with their favorite playmate joined you two, running at the speed of light only to barrel into Toriel’s sturdy frame. Following not far behind was Sans. He was followed a few feet behind by a bailiff, who must be waiting to escort him for outprocessing. The uniformed man tapped his foot impatiently, but a weary Sans ignored his silent plea.

 

Sans carefully approached you, not reaching out to touch you, but stood closer to you than he was in the habit of doing. 

 

“hey”

 

“Congratulations. We...we were worried…”

 

“was there a ‘you’ in there?”

 

You chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. 

 

“Yeah...you could say that.”

The two of you stood there, Toriel and Frisk leaving to give you space. Even the bailiff turned around, and was now whistling impatiently at a wall. 

 

“we have a lot to talk about...but i need to take care of some things.”

 

“I’d appreciate that. I have more questions than answers.”

 

“i left things in a... _ sticky  _ situation.”

 

It took you a moment to understand the pun.

 

“but if it’s alright with ya…i’d like to start at square one. what are your plans tomorrow?”

 

“I’m free that evening.”

 

“what do ya want for dinner? i’m thinking  _ take out _ .”

 

“Take out?”

 

“as in, ‘i’d like to take you out’”

 

After a long pause, Sans’ expression looked a little pained, and you realized that he meant it to be a question. 

 

“...Oh! Yes. I’d like that...will you be home, uh, tonight?”

 

“should be. don’t wait up for me...i have a lot of catching up to do, doll.”

 

Your cheeks were pink and you knew from the glint in his eye he noticed. You really shouldn’t be so bashful at this point, but Sans always kept you guessing.

  
  


______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


 You arrived home, and realized Sans’ estimate was not conservative. He probably  _ would _ be home late. He had a lot of monsters to catch up with, probably, you thought, because he couldn’t just have them over here or else they might make you uncomfortable. It’s a sacrifice you’d make for Sans as well, but you didn’t really have many humans in your life at this point. 

 

Decompressing, you slipped out of your suit (goodbye miss young legal upstart) and into some jammies. The past several days had been so eventful, you were unsure how to end your evening. After a few moments of deliberation, you decided to relax by rereading an old book. You didn’t have a bookshelf, so all of your books were haphazardly crammed into a box you kept under your bed. Boy did you have a variety- college textbooks, literary classics, young adult dystopians, reference materials...you couldn’t settle on any of them, until your fingers brushed a smooth surface at the bottom of the box. Curious, you carefully excavated the book. 

 

It was a battered little hand me down, a book your mother had read you as a child, and her mother had read her. You slipped into nostalgia like a warm bath.

 

_ Once, there was a doll that sat on a shelf, disregarded and unloved. One evening, the doll decided this was no life, and tied some of her satin petticoats together, climbing out the window and into the autumn woods. _

 

_ Small, alone and afraid, the little doll trekked through the woods, in search of a new home where she would be cherished...however, the farther the doll walked, the more isolated she felt, sifting through the red leaves. As night approached, she could hear the crinkle of dry brush in the distance behind her, and carefully nestled into the hollow of a tree to turn in for the night. _

 

A smile pulled at your lips. It was no wonder you loved this book so much. It was hard not to feel like a misfit toy, sometimes. The large, grey and grainy photographs of the doll were gripping, and you felt like a child small in your boots once again.

 

_ The next day went much like the first- she woke, and began to make her way to the woods, scanning the horizon for a new home. Her previous home was now out of sight, and her optimism gave way to despair. The little doll stopped to weep against a toadstool. Hearing her cry, a turtledove landed in the brush next to her. _

 

_ “Young one, why do you cry? Look at you, your ringlets in disarray, and your fine silk petticoats torn to bits.” _

 

_ “I am looking for a new home. I was not loved.” _

 

_ “Silly girl, you’ll not find a home out here. I fly up high and have not seen any people for miles. Please let me take you back.” _

 

_ The little dollie considered it, the onset of nighttime filtering through the trees, but kindly refused. _

 

_ “Thank you Mr.Bird, but I musn’t go back.” _

 

_ The bird tutted at her polite refusal and flew away. Less frightened than the first night, the doll curled up into a pile of soft leaves and began to drift away to sleep. Once again, she heard the distant crunching of leaves. As her eyes closed, she could see the shine of nocturnal eyes. _

 

_ The next day, the doll drank some water from an acorn cap and ever stalwart, continued on. Today, she heard the mysterious footsteps closer than ever before, and even the occasional terrifying yelp. She could not outrun her follower. That night, as she rest against a tree stump, she shivered in anticipation, until a large, black figure manifested from the night. Its eyes glowed eerily in the dusk and it had sharp, long fangs.  _

 

_ “Pardon me, but are you out here by yourself?” _

 

_ Peeking through fingers, hands covering her face, the doll looked at the pursuer.  _

 

_ “Who are you?” _

 

_ “I’m but a black cat. I followed you out of concern.” _

 

_ Aye, and a handsome black tom at that, a healthy sheen on his fur. _

 

_ “I left my home because I was never paid any mind. I’m looking for a new home.” _

 

_ “Have you considered making the woods your home?” _

 

_ “But the woods are so scary! I could never!” _

 

_ “I think you’ll find the wood is only scary on your own. If you’d like it, I could be your friend, and you could be mine. Then the forest wouldn’t be so frightening.” _

 

_ That night, the doll nestled herself deep in the warmth of the tom’s fur, and slept more comfortably than she had at her previous home.  _

 

Life imitates fiction, or is it the other way around? You fell asleep, book in your grasp. When you awoke in the morning, the book was gone, and you had been tucked in. Sans.

 

Sans was not in the apartment, but there was a slip of paper. It simply read “6:00 pm”. That was plenty of instruction. You went to work, daydreaming about a doll and a handsome tom cat, and overfilled coffee several times. You floated home, out of your uniform, and into some clothes you’d hope Sans liked.

 

By the time the apartment door opened, your head swiveled like a puppy, left at home all day. Sans didn’t see you at first, smiling to himself about something. In his hand was your story book. When he met your eyes, he looked at first shocked, and then mildly pleased. It was not every day you groomed yourself to this standard, but you’d taken the time to today. 

 

“hey  _ dollface.  _ i borrowed your book. i hope ya don’t mind”

 

“No, not really. Where did you take it off to?”

 

Sans’ smile widened and he rubbed the dome-like back of his skull.

 

“he’d hate it if ya knew, but pap sometimes asks me to read him bedtime stories. it seemed to do you some good, so i passed it on.”

 

The mental image of a starry-eyed Papyrus, comforter up to his mital processes, eagerly awaiting a story was so precious you cupped your face.

 

“He does? That’s so wonderful. Did he like the book?”

 

“he loved it. i may have to borrow it again.”

 

“I’m glad. You can borrow it anytime you want.  _ Off the books _ .”

 

Sans grinned sheepishly at your pun, but seemed squirmy and anxious. You’d never seen him anything but completely sure in himself. 

 

“Sans?”

 

“it’s getting late, kid. i want to take you somewhere, but i don’t have a car. on a scale of one to ten, how do you feel about teleportation?”

 

Teleportation? Is that the ‘popping’ thing Sans did the first time you’d met? You hadn’t seen him do it much since, probably a concession for you. 

 

“It...uh, it makes me a little uncomfortable. But I’m willing to try it.”

 

“atta girl. come here, and hold on tight.”

 

You approached Sans and loosely clung to the fabric of his parka. He shook his head in disapproval. 

 

“no, you’ll fall off between dimensions like that. like this.”

 

Sans’ bony fingers wrapped around your wrists and posed you like a marionette. He gingerly tugged you forward, flush against his front side. You could barely make out the rigidity of his sternum. One hand was wrapped tightly around his neck, the other around his upper back. The embrace made you so shy, you tucked your face in his neck, which he seemed to like. His arms wrapped around the small of your back, fiercely protectively.

 

“s’alright. now don’t ever let go.”

_ Wouldn’t dream of it. _

 

Sans’ eye flared to life with opulent blue light and the room disintegrated and melted around you. There was a zero g sensation in your middle as you flung through the blackness of time-space, and landed with Sans outside someone’s apartment. It took you a moment to recover, but when you did you released your death grip on Sans.

 

“That was...whoa.”

 

“I just wanted to  _ take your breath away.” _

 

“Then you succeeded. Sans...where are we?”

 

He gave you a mischievous grin, the blue light of his pupil fading away. His phalanges gave a gentle rap to the door in front of you. Something smelled incredible.

  
“i can’t take you to my favorite restaurant in the underground. but i can take ya to the chef.”


	16. A Table for Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a pleasant dinner with Sans and begin to renegotiate the terms of your fling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much to look forward to! The next chapter should be limey in nature, just as a warning.

“is this okay? i know you’ve come out of your shell, but grillby is...well, he’s a pretty  _ hot _ guy. Is that going to bother you?”

 

He kept an arm casually slung around your shoulder. You knew what he meant...but things were different when Sans was nearby. He was a stabilizing force. You’d already met Undyne, you weren’t sure you could be scared of anything anymore.

 

“It’s more than okay. Let’s not keep him waiting.” You smiled genuinely, grinding your cheek into his arm. He let out a sigh that wasn’t particularly sexual; it just seemed like relief.

 

Not a second later, the door peaked open a finger’s width. The inside of the apartment was dim, but illuminated by a radiant golden light. It took a few seconds to register that you weren’t looking at a lighting fixture, but a being made of immortal flame, giving you a scrupulous look. 

 

“‘sup, grillbz?”

 

At the sound of Sans’ voice, the door opened all the way. The fire elemental was maybe a few inches taller than you two, but the top of his head flared and flickered variant lengths. Even in the dark, he wore a stylish pair of Ray-Bans and a (somehow) flame retardant apron. He gestured for you to enter, shutting the door behind you. 

“grillby, this is the special lady i told you about. I wanna show her a good time tonight.”

 

Grillby flickered brighter and then dimmer, rhythmically. Sans was analyzing him intently. After Grillby stopped flashing, Sans’ face burned blue. 

 

“cut it out, man. no, i haven’t ‘already shown her one’. please take a  _ chill pill _ . table for two.”

 

Grillby shone in response, and this time, you could make out Sans tapping in sync with him on his leg, spelling something out in his head.  _ Oh! He’s speaking in morse code...Sans knows morse code? _

 

“he says ‘right this way’”

 

As if the addition of his own body wasn’t enough, Grillby had carefully festooned the dining area of his apartment with little tea candles that danced and swayed. A red tablecloth had been meticulously starched and placed on the dining table, and topped with a bottle of ketchup, and salt and pepper chotchkies that looked like little bunny people. 

 

“Thank you, Grillby. It’s nice to meet you. Sans thinks highly of you as a chef.”

 

Glowing in more ways than one, Grillby extended a tendril of flame to shake your hand, and you recoiled instinctively. He pulled his hand back, and blew forcefully on it, leaving a penumbra of a hand- like flesh made of soft cinder and ash. His hand was residually warm, and left a thin film of ash on your hand. When he let go, it combusted once again. You sat, graciously, and Grillby disappeared into his kitchen, where you could already whiff the savory smell of beef. 

 

“grillby’s ‘burgs are something of a legend where i come from. he’s eager to test them on a human audience- he wants to open up a diner topside one of these days.”

 

“A burger sounds amazing. Where you come from- you called it Snowdin, right? Tell me about it.”

 

You hoped that it wasn’t a sore spot in his memory, but he seemed energetic and thrilled you’d want to know about it. 

 

“well, the underground was a bigger place than ya realize. It was made of a few different towns...there were the ruins, but nobody lives there, really...and snowdin, which is always in perpetual winter...waterfall which is always dark, but the flowers glow...the hotlands are covered in lava...and then there’s the capital, i guess. pap and i lived in snowdin. pap liked the snow.”

 

“Did you like the snow?”

 

“...ah, you got me there. not particularly. the cold isn’t really a bother when you’re all bones, but i didn’t really like shoveling all the time. kind of a pain.”

“Hahaha, you’ll looooove winter in Mt.Ebott then. We get flurries like no tomorrow.”

 

“heh. yeah. but at least we’ve got the sun up here. you guys take it for granted. there’s nothing quite like it.”

 

“Oh? I didn’t peg you as a sunbather. Do you like to give your bones a good sun-bleaching?”

 

You cracked a grin.

 

“why? you wanna check out the tan lines?”

 

Sans gave a wicked wink. You gulped. How did he do that? With the timing of an angel, Grillby returned with two luscious burgers, and placed them in front of you. If Sans’ eyes had been trained on you, they were sure as hell not anymore. It would have been sinful to not gape at the monument of a burger placed in front of each of you. Not to be outdone, there was also a small sea of golden, steaming fries. 

 

Not a lot of talk happened while the burgers remained intact. Neither one of you could resist the lure of a hot meal, and the best description of the dining portion of your first date would be wildlife videography of a cheetah tearing into a water buffalo. 

 

After the meal, Sans offered to ‘pay his tab’, but Grillby waived it. You thanked Grillby profusely for his hospitality, and wished him luck with the restaurant.

 

“You’d have my business. And I’m a diner food veteran.”

 

“yeah, grillbz. ya set up shop, you could probably get her into a uniform.”

 

Strangely enough, Grillby seemed to consider it. 

 

You told him to have a great night, and soon enough your first official date with Sans began where it had started- in an apartment complex hallway. Sans had been outspoken, but now his bravado seemed to fade. It occurred to you that you hadn’t been alone together for a while. You’d have to tear the walls down all over again if he closed himself off…

 

“hey.”

 

“...yes?”

 

“you have something on your face.”

 

Your fingertips began probing your cheeks, looking for stray flecks of food or sauce, timidly. Of course there would be, you smashed your face into that burger. How Sans came out of it spotlessly, you couldn’t comprehend. Magic?

 

“...Where is it? What’s on my face? Sans?”

 

“ _ me _ .”

 

Polished fingertips traced your cheekbone. Your eyes fluttered shut as Sans’ toothy mouth pressed softly against your lips. There was no pressure- it was tender and affectionate. It was everything a ‘happily ever after’ kiss should be...his hand softly caressing your face, and the gentle warmth of him surrounding you. He wasn’t greedy or insistent. Just happy to be home with you. When he released you, your eyes had to focus back on him. He was similarly drunk on his emotions.

 

“...Sans…”

 

Your comparatively smaller hand rested on his chest. His hands eclipsed yours. Sans breathed, or at least mimicked breathing, but he had no heartbeat. With your hand pressed to him, you could feel an almost electromagnetic thrum coming from within him, cycling rhythmically like the tide. It was an echo to the pounding in your chest.

 

“that’s what ya do to me. that buzzing that’s happening there? that happens when you’re around. normally, it’s just kind of a constant hum...is it like that for you?”

 

He had just conceded something very personal, and it was no small wonder that he couldn’t make eye contact. You reciprocated his gesture by placing his ‘palm’ to the valley between your breasts. The placement initially confused him, and he watched your face, trying to establish if it was meant to a sexual caress, but you spoke before he was able to befuddle the meaning of the gesture any more than he had.

 

“This is what it’s like for me. I don’t always do a good job of showing it, but my heart is always beating so fast when you’re close.”

 

The confession prompted your heart to race even more than it was before, and you could see understanding dawning in Sans’ expression. You could feel the lub-dub of your heart and the whush-gush of the blood, flowing hotly in your veins...you willed him to feel it too. 

 

There was a loud creak as the door behind you snapped open. It was Grillby. He flashed frantically.

 

“grillby! do you mind? this is kinda personal.”

 

“Sorry, Grillby. We’ll take off!”

 

_ Holy shit, how long was Grillby by the door? Was he watching through the fucking keyhole? _

 

Sans loudly cleared his throat, leaping away from you as Grillby slowly and untrustingly shut his door, which ended in a puff of smoke. 

 

Sans grabbed you in a tight (albeit a little more clinical) embrace and with a feeling of evaporation, you blinked, and found yourself in the living area of your apartment.

 

He immediately backed away from you, back to you, his machismo under attack. You grabbed him securely from behind and hummed happily.

 

“Thank you for dinner. I loved it. And the scenery wasn’t too bad, either…”

 

“...yeah? glad you liked it kid. look,..”

 

Precious beads of sweat formed on his temple as one of your hands bravely ventured southward. He caught it with a firm grip, and turned to face you again.

 

“i’ll level with you. i want ya. but this feeling...it’s special, ya know? i want to do things right. nice and traditional...with pants on.”

 

Even as he said that, you could tell by the way he stood he was in some manner of discomfort. You allowed him to have the final word as he went to hang up his keys, but you slithered behind him, ushering him to continue the conversation.

 

“i’m not ready...i’m not ready to sleep with ya, yet. i wanna take my time...do the research. my answer is ‘no’.”

 

“We don’t have to...uh, have sex tonight...whenever you’re ready. I don’t know if it’s comfortable enough for you, but if you’d like, I can...touch you?”

 

Sans stood there, frozen, weighing his options. 

 

“i really want to say ‘yes’ to you. but this isn’t a sex thing for me anymore...i’ve been attracted to girls- i mean, like, monster girls, before.  _ boned _ a few of ‘em. but never felt like this. like i want it to mean something. can you wait just a little while for me, sugar? please. i need this.”

 

“Of course, Sans. I want you to feel comfortable...I don’t mean to sound pushy. Whenever you’re ready. You set the comfort level.”

 

Sans gave you an appreciative peck on the lips, and you watched some TV and chatted before bed. It was a little disorienting knowing that Sans was going to go  _ take care of himself _ , just a few feet away. You caught him, biting your lip, just before he retired to bed. 

 

“Umm...one final offer...would you like me to send you pictures?”

 

If you don’t think a skeleton can get any paler, offer to send them nudes. Sans’ pupils flickered out and back on. 

  
“i think i’d like that.”


	17. Emotional Peek-a-Boo (!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and you stumble into some really weird, nebulous territory, leaving both of you bamboozled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler: stuff got freaky.  
> You cannot deny that sex is where 90% of the awkward situations in any relationship manifest. 
> 
> In other news, [Steot](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Steot/pseuds/Steot)  
> did an nsfw audio clip of the dialogues that take place in chapters 11 and 12! Go check it out [here!](http://princess-of-nope.tumblr.com/post/142050821399/hello-friends-here-is-some-sansreader-audio-i)

You thanked yourself silently for having put your bed against the wall you shared with Sans when you had moved in. The reality sinking in, you scrolled through the many names of people you barely knew on Piksnap, biting your lip. Your finger hovered, exhilarated on his name in the contact book. 

 

_ What usually constitutes a good nude? I mean, should I just jump into it, or should I work up to it? _

 

Laying back on your bed, you began to experiment with angles. You decide to take a picture where you’ve lifted your shirt to reveal your bra...holding the camera above you, you twist and crane your body into a gentle ‘s’ shape that accentuates the proportion of your chest to your waist, and your waist to your hips. The bottom of your face and chin are present at the very top of the photo, your lips drawn in a shy smile. Not much is showing, but you hope the tantalization will have a positive effect on him. After second guessing it for a few moments, you hit send, and wait with your ear against the wall, wanting any acknowledgement that he liked what he saw.

 

There wasn’t a whole lot of sound coming from the other side of the door. You could make out the sound of Sans shifting on his creaky boxspring mattress, but there was no way to tell if he was turned on. 

 

Nervous scowl on your face, you checked the read receipt, which confirmed Sans had seen it. You were just about to go to bed, self esteem thoroughly gouged, when your phone pinged; a notification from Piksnap. You had a pik from Sans. 

 

Sans was seated upright, looking up at his phone. With his other hand, he was bunching up his shirt, removing it. You’d never seen under Sans’ shirt before, and your face got warm, and your head dizzy. His bones were lovely, you decided, following a similar example to human anatomy. They were larger and sturdier looking, and decidedly more smooth looking, more like they were a rough ceramic than an organic tissue. His bones almost seemed a little blockier and more closely fused, creating form as opposed to shape. 

 

He was broad in his ribcage, and had what appeared to be a sturdy spinal cavity. Much like the rest of Sans’ bones (or at least the visible ones) they had a fleshlike quality- like they could blush variably with a tinge of blue, despite their hardness.

 

Skeletons in particular never really did it for you, but anything that was a part of Sans seemed to push your arousal further. You hoped he felt similarly about you.

 

Encouraged, and a little excited by the voyeuristic feel of it, you began working on a second masterpiece. The bra came off, but you laid belly-down on your bed, this time revealing your panties. You’d had the foresight to wear something sexier today, a comfortable but scant lace garment concealing your bottom. You took the photo looking coyly over the mountain of your ass, your naked back to the camera. The unfamiliarity of the cotton sheets tickling your breasts sent a pleasant thrill down your spine as you began to think of Sans receiving the pik. Was he touching himself now? Was he doing it already?

 

You’d for all intents and purposes given him the okay to picture you for sexual gratification. The thought of him imagining himself doing things to you sent a pulse of need to your sex. Fortunate that you’d worn the black underwear today or he may see how wet you’d gotten in your first foray into nude photos. 

 

_ Or would he like to see that? _

 

You shook your head violently, mortified at your own conduct. A ping from Sans interrupted your self admonition. This time, Sans was completely topless- no shirt, no jacket. He still wore pants, but the heel of his hand lay on his pelvis, and the waistband of his pants was worked down a good two inches. If Sans had been a corporeal, human being, it would be an impressive display of the ‘v’ shaped musculature that slopes down towards the cock.

 

His eyes were unfocused, the one blue, and a careless tongue was thrown outside of his mouth. 

 

You knew you needed to up the ante for the next picture, but you were having a civil war with your internal reservations. You slid off your underwear, and focused the camera. The cold open air chilled you and pebbled your nipples. Every moment that passed, every angle you tested only lessened your resolve. You were unsure how obscene to make it...you’d never sent nudes before. You’d only had sex once, and that was a rushed affair your senior year of high school. The clothes hadn’t even come off.

 

Sitting up, you spread your legs in a ribald pose, and abhorred with yourself, tried to spread your lips with two fingers. Gluing your eyes shut, you took the picture, and then sat there, kneeling with your legs open, wondering if this was an acceptable photo to send. You would never know, because there was a loud banging sound, and a few curt footsteps. Without warning, your door flew open, Sans standing only in his pants, sporting a very noticeable glowing bulge. 

 

Shocked, you snapped your legs shut.

 

“Sans! What are you fucking-”

 

“you’re taking too damn long. spread your legs and give me your hand.”

 

Sans invited himself to sit in the space between your legs, coaxing them open. You were thrown back into the bed in the process, squealing like a stuck pig as Sans held you rigidly, looking directly at your exposed pussy.

 

“D-don’t look like that! It’s embarrassing! I thought you wanted to wait?!”

 

Sans sighed, exasperated, inadvertently blowing on your core.

 

“i’m not going to fuck you tonight...but i can’t get you out of my head. it’s not enough in my imagination anymore...you’re what they call ‘the whole package’.”

 

Sans sat up from his heels until he was upright between your legs. The sight of him aligned with you brought to life many lascivious mental images of him wildly thrusting into you, grunting with effort. You turned your head into the sheets to whimper.

 

Sans’ hand dipped into his pants, and as he grasped his length, he choked on the sensation. He freed his erection from the confines of the fabric, and brought it so close to your entrance that you could feel the warmth of it nearby. 

 

You turned to watch him grab one of your wrists, and in a complete juxtaposition of his assertiveness, gently stroke it with his fingertips, before placing it at the space between your legs. 

You strangled an elated cry as he rest the heavy weight of his cock into your fingers, cupping his hand around yours which encircled his member. When you got the courage to look up, he was leaning over you with his other arm as support, looking at you not with hunger, but fascination and meekness. He swallowed roughly, and pumped himself forward into your hand, with enough force to press his shaft against your wetness. 

 

“is this...is this okay?”

 

“Y-yeah…”

 

Sans’ pace was phlegmatic but sure, slicking himself in your fluids. Your core ached. His face was blue and even though his eyes were trained on yours, he looked lost. You reached up with your free hand to cup the side of his skull, and he let out a low moan, pressing his face to your hand. An agile tongue teasingly slipped out of his maw to trace the lines of your palm and you let out a barely audible and indistinct sound. 

 

His dick was now amply lubricated, and every time he thrust into your grip, squeezing with his own hand, there was a wet squelch. His breath quickened, and so did his pace, but he was still painfully hard several minutes later. 

 

“i can’t- i don’t-”

 

“Is there something I can do? I don’t-ah! Know what you like...Sans?”

 

“no, no no. you’re perfect. fucking perfect. i don’t know why…”

 

“Look at me, please.”

 

Sans obeyed your instruction and you felt like you were looking deep into space at his glowing pupils. Like he could only be something from another world.

 

“Pretend you’re ready...pretend you’re inside me.”

 

“i am. i am! and you’re begging for me. and you’re telling me you want me to come inside. it- it’s just not the same. i have feelings for you.”

 

Resourcefully, you pulled him close, now resting on his elbow, and drew him into a series of shallow, affectionate kisses. His tongue grazes you every once in a while and your breathing turns to panting. 

 

“ugh, yeaahh”

 

Kiss.

 

“mmh, yesss, f-fuck…”

 

Kiss.

 

And then the friction against your lips shifts upward against your clit, as Sans pushes so strenuously against your hand and your hips that your bed is rocking, banging ever so slightly against the wall. You wail, forgetting about your apartment neighbors. The hand you had around Sans’ head travels downward to aid your throbbing clit, struggling to compliment the friction of his obscenely wide shaft. 

 

“I’m coming, Sans. Ah! Please!”

 

“yeah, please, doll, rock with me just like that...uhhh, yesss you’re a natural. i fucking love that about you.”

 

“I love everything about you.”

 

Your lidded eyes shot open as soon as it had left your mouth, and Sans’ eyes were so wide it was owl-like. Then they screw shut, and he came, spilling himself all over his hand and your stomach, with a loud, primal shout. He didn’t move after that. Just leaned over you with the same perplexed expression as before. He was looking for something, anything in your face, but all he found was a reflection of his own mystification. 

 

“you love me?”

 

Piping hot tears wormed their way out of your eyes, and you tried to conceal your humiliated face in the side of a pillow, drenching it in your tears. 

 

_ STUPID STUPID STUPID. _

 

Carefully sliding behind your neck to support your head, Sans turned you to look at him. You opened your mouth, trying to articulate some excuse, but he stopped you by pressing his mouth to yours.

 

His hand released your balled fist, unfettering his spent member. You felt the distinct sensation of his fingers entering you, and you relaxed yourself to allow him inside. A third digit rubbed your clit attentively at a sensuous tempo, synchronized with the insistence of his kiss. His fingers curled inside you to stimulate the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

 

His mouth left you, your lips parted and breathing labored, and he made a longing sigh, dragging his tongue salaciously down the side of your neck, coming back up to nip at you earlobe. 

 

Analytically, he breathed some hot air into your ear and you gasped.

 

“say it again, and i’ll let ya come.”

 

“Sans, no…”

 

“say it.”

 

“I-I...I love you?”

 

He bit your neck with a feral growl and pumped you with a greater vigor, pressing hard down on your clit. You came with a shattering cry that he muffled with his open mouthed kiss.

  
Then, bafflingly, he sat up, tucked his now semi-hard dick back into his pants, and took a Piksnap of you with your phone, sending it to himself. He kissed your cheek, looked over his shoulder at you, and turned off the light, returning to his own room.


End file.
